The Color Green
by fanficto obsesso
Summary: “You know, Hermione, green really isn’t your color.” “I’m not jealous,” she replied. "Who said anything about being jealous? I was talking about your jumper." FINALLY! AN UPDATE!
1. Chapter One

**The Color Green (Rewrite)**

**Chapter One**

"You know, Hermione, green really isn't your color." Hermione Granger blinked at the comment, but never tore her gaze away from that…that _cow_, who was currently draping herself all over…_him_.

"I'm not jealous," she replied, still watching the couple with a scowl upon her face.

"Who said anything about being jealous? I was talking about your jumper." Hermione blinked twice and finally turned her attention to the speaker.

"What?" she blurted out, admittedly, a bit stupidly. She instantly blushed, which made Ginny smirk amusedly, and a little bit scarily as well. _Wow_, Hermione thought to herself, _that was a lot of adverbs_.

"Just get it over with and snog the man already!" Ginny hissed over to the red-faced brunette. "Maybe then I'll be able to enjoy supper without having to catch you glaring daggers over there." At Ginny's words, Hermione's gaze began to drift back to the sickening couple. The cow was now running her fingers through his stylishly mussed hair. Hermione sighed wistfully as she imagined how soft his hair must be while simultaneously plotting a million and one ways to detach the cow's fingers from her body. Hermione figured if she managed to remove a few more appendages in the process, it couldn't possibly have any negative effect on her desired result.

But she also wished that she had been bold enough to do it first, to hell with the consequences. At least then she wouldn't be sitting here, like a fool, envying Pansy Parkinson, of all people, for things she knew, for a fact, she couldn't have.

"Hermione!"

"I'm sorry, Ginny. What was that?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I was just _saying_ that you had better do something about this…this…_interest_ you've developed for our fair friend over there. Someone's bound to notice." Just as the words left Ginny's mouth, he turned in their direction and his gaze locked with Hermione's for she had, indeed, turned back to look at him. She froze and blushed once more for having been caught staring. For a few, crucial moments, she did nothing; she didn't blink, she didn't breathe, didn't move, didn't _think_. He went about the motions of pouring himself a drink, never breaking eye contact. She saw no emotion at first. Maybe the initial surprise at discovering that she had been staring and the flash of suspicion before schooling his features to a blank mask. But her paranoid mind could have imagined that, so nervous was she that she had been caught staring. At Draco Malfoy, no less! She'd never hear the end of it.

He lifted his goblet to his lips, his silver-blue eyes still locked on her cinnamon colored orbs, which had begun to water, but she still would not blink. It was a silent staring contest. A silent challenge that neither knew how it had been initiated. Both were unsure of the stakes, but at the moment, Hermione did not care. All she could think about was how much she would not mind being Draco's goblet at that moment. It must be nice to be held in his elegant hand, to be able to touch his lips. She was sure that they were softer than his hair.

He pulled the goblet away and a drop of pumpkin juice clung to his full bottom lip. He pink tongue came out to lick it away. Pink with embarrassment, as well as a little desire, she blinked. She rubbed her eyes a little bit to ease a little more moisture into them before looking back at Draco.

_I win_, he mouthed. And then he winked. She gulped. Her heart began to flutter. What just happened? And what did it all mean?

* * *

He knew she was staring. Just as he knew she was staring yesterday. And the day before that. Just as he knew she had been staring all year. And while it unnerved him at first, now he found it rather amusing. Endearing, even, that she could pull her nose out of her bloody books for just one second to finally acknowledge the fact that he was the sexiest thing to cross over Hogwarts' threshold and stare so blatantly.

Correction. _Glare_ blatantly, but who has time for semantics nowadays?

He inwardly smirked, aware of the cause of Granger's disgruntled state. Of course, the source of her disgruntled state was also the cause of _his_ disgruntled state. Pansy knew better than to muss his hair. But he said nothing, allowing Pansy's clammy hands to latch onto his arm, muss his perfect golden tresses, press her voluptuous (not to mention, most definitely magically enhanced, no matter what she might say to the contrary) breasts against his side, all to keep that adorably disgruntled look on Granger's face. Serves her right for staring.

He finally glanced over and caught her gaze. He feigned surprise at catching her staring, then suspicion. Had to keep up her belief that he disliked her, at the very least. It just wouldn't do to have her find out that he found her newfound interest in him amusing, and maybe a little bit charming. His blue-grey eyes latched onto her brown orbs…dull, ordinary brown, he reassured himself. He saw the thought running through her head. Saw every emotion she currently felt. His first instinct was to be disappointed in how easy it was to read her. This was the girl, no…_woman_, who continually assisted Harry-Sodding-Potter in fighting off the Darkest Wizard of their time. This was the girl who had stared defiantly at him as he called her Mudblood over and over again, the girl who had punched him third year for daring to make unprovoked taunts about a man she called one of her dearest acquaintances, yet now she wore her emotions so openly on her sleeve.

But as he continued staring, he found himself amazed at how much dimension such emotions added to her dull eyes. As each emotion passed across her face, a different shade of brown, even a little gold, swirled within those orbs. Suddenly, he found that he couldn't pull his gaze away. The room felt smaller and just a little bit warmer. He reached for his goblet of pumpkin juice, still unable to tear his gaze away from Granger's. That made him pissed. How could this ordinary looking girl with the smart mouth and her hand practically stuck in the air, her nose always in a book, intrigue him so? He continued to drink and watched in amazement as her eyes grew darker with a new emotion. If he wasn't mistaken, her eyes were almost black with…dare he say it?..._desire_. He could almost read every thought going through her head. He inwardly smirked. Now _this_ he could work with. This should be fun.

He finally pulled the goblet away, allowing one, single drop of juice to cling to his bottom lip. Knowing she was watching, he stuck his tongue out to catch it before it dripped back into his awaiting goblet. She blinked. He smirked. _Got you, Granger_. She rubbed her eyes and then went straight back to staring at him. He couldn't help himself. It was too easy.

_I win._

Allow her to come to her own conclusions as to what he might want as far as terms. And with that, he stood, effectively pushing Pansy off his person, causing her to lose her balance and fall back onto the person beside her. It happened to be Blaise Zabini, who merely grunted at the momentary interruption of his meal. She threw him a disgusted look and an irritated one at Draco, who did not care enough to acknowledge it whatsoever before turning on his heel and walking out of the Great Hall.

* * *

When Hermione decided to return to Hogwarts to finish her education, she honestly had no idea what to expect. All she had wanted to do was finish out the year, pass her N.E.W.T.s, and work her way up through the Ministry as quickly as she possibly could. It wasn't necessary, she knew, but she wanted to make a name for herself other than The-Girl-Who-Helped-The-Boy-Who-Lived. Besides having an exhaustingly long moniker, she simply didn't want to be known as the sidekick. Call her selfish or self-centered or what-have-you, but Hermione Granger was simply not raised to be content living in someone else's shadow. She was super intelligent and had the ability to _be_ somebody and she would show the world that pureblood or not, she was meant to be here.

She figured that maybe that was part of the reason she was so obsessed with Malfoy. Her whole Hogwarts career, he had made her feel as if she was inadequate, as if she was never going to be good enough for this school. And that was what made her hate Malfoy, that he was the first person to ever make her feel inferior. Sure, Ron talked about her behind her back about how she was such an insufferable know-it-all, but it wasn't anything that she hadn't heard her entire life. She was used to not having friends because of her eagerness to share knowledge. But Malfoy actually made her feel like she didn't belong. She had never been hated simply because she had been born. It wasn't something that she could help. It was simply who she was and nothing she did would change it. She felt helpless when it came to Malfoy's barbs about being a Mudblood. And while she became better at hiding her hurt, the word always stung.

Upon that last thought, she finally found herself at the entrance to the Head Dorms. It was no surprise that either of then had received the positions of Head Boy and Girl, seeing as how Hermione was often labeled as "the brightest witch of her year" and Malfoy had always been just a few points below her in all their classes. What was a surprise was that he had come back to accept the position at all. After he had fled with Snape, she figured that Draco Malfoy would never dare show his face around Hogwarts again. But somehow, he had been acquitted of all charges, the Wizengamot deciding that he had been too young and under much duress, Narcissa Malfoy having revealed the Unbreakable Vow she had made with Snape and the delicate circumstances of Draco's assignment. And come September 1, there Draco was, on the Hogwarts Express. And since it was Malfoy, he couldn't just leave anything alone and actually sat down with her in her compartment. He said nothing, simply nodded in greeting and they continued the rest of the trip in silence, although it wasn't uncomfortable. But then, of course, he had to ruin it; as they went off in their separate ways, he had parted with a nonchalant, "See you around, Mudblood," and ran to catch up with Pansy and Zabini. And, for the first time since second year, Hermione Granger cried because Malfoy had called her that foul name.

She shivered at the memory and how the disgusting word fell so easily from his lips. How it had broken her heart in second year and how it had inexplicably did the same just months before. How she still had feelings for him now regardless. She looked around their shared suite for any signs of her dorm-mate. The space seemed empty and she relaxed, taking a few steps towards the bathroom.

"You know, Granger, it is incredibly rude to block the entry way." She gasped as spun around, clutching her hand to her racing heart.

"Malfoy, you prick, you gave me a fright." Draco shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Such language, Granger. What would everyone think if they heard their conquering heroine speaking in such a manner?" Hermione stuck her fists to her hips, her stance ready for a fight.

"They would think that I had a justifiable reason since it is _you_ to whom I am speaking." He took a step into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, that damn smirk still in place. Only then did Hermione realize that he had effectively trapped her in the loo, of all places. And seeing that smirk on his face only angered her even more.

"And don't you dare smirk at me like that, Draco Malfoy." His smirk grew even broader.

"Like what, Granger? I had no idea you even noticed _how_ I smirked…Hermione." She frowned.

"Don't…call me that."

"What? Hermione? It is your name, is it not?"

"Yes, but…you're not allowed to use it." He chuckled amusedly.

"And why, might I ask, is that, Princess?"

"Don't call me that either!" He rolled his eyes.

"What, what _can_ I call you, then? I can't call you by your given name, I can't call you Princess and I most certainly cannot call you Mud—" In a flash, Hermione had Malfoy up against the wall, wand to his neck.

"DON'T!" Malfoy frowned, pushing her wand away gently.

"What the bloody hell is the matter with you, Granger?"

"What's the matter with me? What's the matter with _you_? Why were you staring at me?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"Me? Staring? At you? Hold on a minute there. I'm positively sure that it was _you_ who was staring at _me._ Although," and here he treated her to a particularly smug smirk, "I can hardly blame you." He winked at her for the second time that night. Her eyes narrowed.

"You're disgusting." She turned to walk through the door that led to her room. But as the reached out to turn the knob, his voice stopped her again.

"You owe me, you know." She stopped, but did not turn around. Didn't respond. Simply waited. She could feel him taking slow steps towards her.

"I won. Fair and square." She finally spun around.

"What are you talking about?" She was face-to-face with Malfoy. She gasped lightly. She hadn't expected him to be so close. He looked down at her for several seconds, but they seemed to drag on forever.

She took the time to take a good look into his eyes. It was like looking into the reflection of the stormy sky in the roiling ocean; hints of green and blue flickered amongst the grey. As she continued to stare, his eyes grew darker. It was an amazing sight to watch. The colors blending together as his eyes grew stormier. She should have heeded it as a warning, that a different storm was brewing, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. This was the closest that she had been to Draco all year. She couldn't move. Her body was longing to touch him, but she kept her fists clenched tight. Finally, he spoke.

"It seems to me, Hermione Granger, that you have a staring problem," he finally croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper. She gulped. _Be brave_, she told herself. _Be bold. Don't let Pansy best you in something!_ She stood taller and looked down her nose at him through heavy eyelids.

"And what are you going to do about it?" He crowded in just a little bit closer. Hermione resisted the urge to back up. She would not lose this round. He leaned forward so that his mouth just barely brushed her ear.

"You don't want to know what I would do about it," he said huskily, his voice dropping a bit. She gave a little smirk of her own and tilted her head so that her mouth brushed up against _his_ ear.

"Maybe I do." Malfoy backed away quickly, surprise clearly etched on his aristocratic features. Then suddenly, his eyes narrowed.

"Don't toy with me, Granger." She gave him her best imitation of his infamous smirk, gently taking hold of his green Slytherin tie. She couldn't believe how bold she was being. _But it's about damn time I finally took what I wanted._

"But I'm not…Draco."

To say that he was taken aback by her sudden brazenness would have been a slight understatement. Draco Malfoy had never before witnessed Hermione Granger act like that and wasn't sure that anyone had, really. And it was a good thing, too. He had never been more turned on in his life. There was just something about seeing Innocent and Naïve Little Hermione Granger, Princess of Gryffindor and Queen of Swot, acting not so innocent and definitely not so swotty (if that was even a word) that made his blood run hot in his veins. He could feel it rushing to his face, which he did not like. It gave him the appearance that he was blushing and Malfoys did not blush! Damn his ancestors for cursing him with such fair skin! He distracted himself by looking once more into those, okay, he admitted to himself, not-so-dull brown eyes. Immediately, he realized that this was a Bad Idea (and, yes, it's meant to be capitalized); her eyes were so dilated that they really did look black, giving her an evil look. And while any other, lesser, man would have been intimidated, it only served to make him want her even more. Finally, unable to control himself, he grabbed Hermione by the back of the neck and crushed her lips to his.

He tasted heavenly. Even better than anything she could have imagined. While he had been aggressive at first, he had gentled and his kiss was passionate. Nothing like the chaste kisses her and Viktor shared and only slightly different than the kiss she and Ron and shared in the heat of the moment during the Final Battle. She was _so_ glad that they had realized that while they may have been attracted to one another, there was really nothing going for them in the long run. Now, he was happily reunited with Lavender Brown and she couldn't be happier for them. And _why_ was she thinking about Won-Won and Lav-Lav while she was having the best song session of her life? Just as she contemplated just that, Draco pressed his thumbs against her jaw, encouraging her to open her mouth. She did and his tongue swooped into her mouth, as if trying to learn every groove, sensually coaxing her tongue to dance with his, and every other rational thought was expelled from her mind except one: Draco Malfoy was the best damn kisser _ever_. She moaned into his mouth as his serpentine-like tongue took another sweep on her mouth. She had never kissed any other boy in such a way before. She had had this view that having another person's tongue in her mouth wasn't very sexy. She was fully prepared to retract that statement. Draco Malfoy's tongue in her mouth was most definitely sexy. Very sexy. She clutched onto his robes, pulling him closer, if such a thing were possible. Their bodies were pressed so close together, she was almost unsure of where he started and she began. Or vice versa. And while that statement did seem incredibly cliché, she didn't care. All she cared about was the feeling of his hard, muscle-toned body against her own; such a contrast to her softness. She stood on her tiptoes to better align herself with him, brushing up against him, eliciting a deep grown from Malfoy. The primal sound of his deep voice rumbled against her body, they were so close, and it made her feel even hotter. He pulled away just a fraction of an inch and asked against her lips, "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Granger?"

Did she? Did she really know what she was getting herself into? She had admired Draco from afar all year, wanting him for what reason, she did not know. All she knew was that, yes, he was a snarky bastard and a bully to boot, but he was damn sexy. He had a certain charm to him that had not been present in previous years. And while he still teased her mercilessly, it seemed more in jest than malicious. He wasn't nice in any sense, but there was just something about him that made Hermione feel as if she could forgive him for any fault because he was just so damn cute.

"No," she finally admitted. "But it's not as if you'd let me stop at this point." He smirked.

"It seems that you know me well, Ms. Granger."

"You're a prat, Malfoy."

"Yet, you want me anyway."

"It seems that you know me as well, Mr. Malfoy."

"Just shut up and keep kissing me, Granger." And she did.

* * *

**A/N: Okay! So that was the first chapter of my "The Color Green" rewrite! I started to reformat the story so that it was relevant to Deathly Hallows, but I realized that it would interfere with the overall flow of the story that I had imagined in the first place. I'll try to update two chapters at a time until I'm all caught up. Again, this will take some time since I am still without my own computer and I have to find time to drag my ass to my parents' house to use theirs while they're out of town.**

**Not that you needed to know all of that, but anyway...**

**I would hope that you like the changes, though subtle, and I give you my gratitude for all of your continued loyalty to my writing. It really means a lot!**

**P.S. For the reviewer of my absolutely ancient story, "My Favorite Mistake," who said that it seemed cliche and all this other stuff that I didn't care to remember, I don't know if you really looked at the year that it was published, but I was NINETEEN when I wrote that story, so of course it was cliche and juvenile. I wrote it at an age when I had all these horrible preconceived notions about love that were all inaccurate, having never been in a real relationship at that point and, therefore, having no real-world knowledge on the subject. Please don't judge. I'm trying very hard to rectify that problem in my current works and hopefully, I'll continue to become a better, more mature writer. Thank you and fuck you very much.**


	2. Chapter Two

** The Color Green**

**Chapter 2**

Two days later, Hermione awoke that morning and immediately began pacing the floor of her bedroom. She was beginning to seriously question her sanity. How could she have done that? And with _him_ of all people? She paused in her pacing, shook her head and angrily grabbed her things to begin to ready for the day. She brushed her teeth so aggressively that her gums began to bleed a little. She scrubbed her face hard and the skin became so red, it almost looked raw. It was as she was energetically pulling a brush through her ridiculous mane that she picked up her inner tirade once again. Draco Malfoy was a bully. He was also a prat, narcissistic, pompous, evil, gorgeous, sexy…

"Listing all of my wonderful personality traits, are we, Granger?" He was _here_. She started, again, at the sound of his voice and nearly broke her brush in two as she tugged on a knot in her hair. She felt the blush rush to her cheeks furiously, and slammed the brush back on the counter, bracing herself against it. Damn the man to hell and back.

"I wasn't talking to you, _Malfoy_," she said indignantly, barely glancing at his reflection leaning casually against his bedroom door. She continued to blush even more furiously upon the realization that not only had she been thinking out loud, but also he had heard every word _and_ he got to see that Hermione Granger looked beastly in the morning while he looked delicious. _Did I really just use that word to describe Malfoy? It's official. I've gone mental._

"Yes, well, you were muttering to yourself so loudly that I couldn't help but overhear. Interrupted my beauty sleep, might I add." Hermione rolled her eyes at the last comment and tried to continue brushing her hair, but her hands began to shake with her nervousness. He stepped closer and damn if she didn't take one step back! _Get a grip, Granger! You're made of stronger stuff than that! He's just a boy, for Merlin's sake! _With that little pep talk to herself, she stopped and drew herself up to her full height, chin raised slightly.

"Whether or not I was talking loudly, it still wasn't meant for you to hear, Malfoy." To her annoyance, he simply rolled his eyes.

"Ah, so it's back to _Malfoy_, it is Granger? And here I've come to think that we could be on first name basis since we did swap saliva, after all. My mistake." Hermione felt what little hold he had on her already boiling temper beginning to slip away. How she hated this man for knowing exactly which buttons to push!

"Yes, about that. I'd rather you forget about it. It was a fluke and don't expect it to ever happen again." She inwardly smirked at how his face fell at her words. But that treacherous part of her that foolishly clung to the hope that they would someday end up together brightened at that look; maybe he liked her back, after all?

She gave him a brief nod after receiving no immediate response and was about to turn away when he grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around, holding her close to his body one again. Immediately, she felt her body begin to respond. Damn. She was afraid this would happen.

"Don't you think it's a bit rude to turn away from a conversation before the other person has had his chance at a rebuttal to such an outrageous comment?" She raised an eyebrow.

"How was it outrageous? I would have thought that it would have been much appreciated on your part, Malfoy, After all, I am _only_ a mere _Mud—_." His lips pressing angrily against her own suddenly cut her off. _This position is starting to become awfully familiar._ Of course, she wasn't stupid. Hadn't she promised herself that she was going to start taking what she wanted? She began to respond back and grinned when she received a moan from Draco in appreciation. He must have felt it because he pulled away briefly, lips still brushing against hers.

"And what's so funny?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all, Draco." At the sound of his name coming from her lips, he smirked and began to place a trail of butterfly kisses from the corner of her lips to her ear.

"Yes, my name is _Draco_. It would do you well to remember that." What that, he slowly, agonizingly, torturously ran his tongue along the shell of her ear. Hermione shivered helplessly, nearly melting into a pool of lustful mush before he suddenly pulled away and in one more second, was gone. She blinked at the empty space before her and if it hadn't been for the residual tingling sensation she felt from the roots of her hair down to her bloody _toenails_, she would have thought that she had imagined the whole incident.

Draco stalked back into his room, infuriated with himself. Just as he had been for the past two days. Ever since the first Incident, and yes, once again, it must be capitalized to show the severity of the situation. He couldn't believe that he had kissed her! Not one, but _twice_ now! And it wasn't just regular kissing. He had tried to fucking _consume_ the girl! He sat heavily on his bed.

This was bad. Very Bad.

Draco Malfoy did _not_ lose control. He did _not_ just randomly grab girls and begin to snot them within every inch of their lives. He did _not_ let any girl, any _person_, especially not Hermione Granger, get the best of him, And he most certainly _did not_ paw at a woman like was some randy virgin boy about to get to second base for the first time. But he had done all of those things…twice. And within the past 72 hours!

He groaned and fell backwards onto his bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. He didn't understand what was happening at all. This wasn't supposed to happen. All he had wanted to do was tease Granger for, obviously, having a crush on him. For staring at him all year. For wanting him when he, clearly, did not want her back. At least not consciously. Who knew that buried underneath that prim and proper person was the amount of passion that she had exhibited not once, but twice.

Twice. Meaning not one, but _two_ times. Meaning he had lost control of himself not one, but _two _times. That simply was not the way Draco Malfoy worked. If he wanted a woman, he seduced her. He flattered her with insincere compliments, charmed her with his winning smile and made her shiver with want with a subtle graze of his hand in strategic places. He eased his way into a woman's favor.

But it was not so with Granger. But then again, he was never really trying to _get_ Granger. He was simply trying to goad her into admitting that she had an interest in him after so many years of them having been at each other's throats. He never meant to actually _touch _her. Before that moment, he had never even entertained the idea of Granger being a prospective conquest.

And that's all that women were to him: conquests. He never got attached. He never invested any sort of emotion into any relationship, to use the term loosely, that he had participated in. But to hear Hermione say that he should forget the Incident ever happened…well it did something to him. Something he did not like. He felt a fury like none other towards her. It burned like a hot poker stabbing him through the chest. And underlying that, there was another emotion. One he couldn't quite place. One he didn't _want_ to place. And he most definitely did NOT want to think about the implications of what that strange chest pain could have been.

And then she simply _had_ to use the "M" word.

_Mudblood_.

Somehow, that word coming from her lips seemed wrong. It seemed like that derogatory slur that society has come to recognize it as. But most of all, it made him realize how much it must have hurt to hear it, day after day after day, for the past five years.

He didn't want to hear it. He didn't like to think that he was a bad person. Evilness and to just be a bad person seemed like two different things. Evilness entailed that you were sinister. He liked the sound of that. It made him sound like the stereotypical bad boy. The Forbidden Fruit to Hogwarts' residential "good girls." But to be a bad person…Draco considered bad people to be the type that society turned their backs on. Bad people were the sort that people like the Malfoys gossiped about in hushed voices amongst their equally snobby societal peers. Draco couldn't possibly be one of those people. The Malfoy family was still well known and respected. He couldn't afford to commit such a horrendous _faux_ _pas_ such as spouting off at the mouth about _Mudbloods_ during these volatile times, especially since the Wizarding World seemed to be on the verge of war, scared citizens sussing out Voldemort supporters as if it was the proverbial witch hunt. No matter that the rest of his society had been committing the same _faux pas_ all their lives. And this is all aside from the fact that Draco had not realized how bad-mannered the word seemed until right that moment.

And so he kissed her.

And damn! The girl could kiss. And double damn! He really wouldn't mind doing it again!

He sat up abruptly. _Again?_ It shouldn't have even happened the first time! Hermione Granger was seriously _off limits._ Not because he didn't think that she would have him, because it was quite obvious by now that he easily could get past what weak defenses she had put up against him. It was because she represented so many things that went against everything _he_ represented. She was a Mud…a Mu…er…_Muggle-Born _(Damn! Even in his own bloody _thoughts_ He couldn't say it anymore!), she was a bossy, know-it-all swot, who would probably tell a bed partner that he was ejaculating wrong, she was a Gryffindor, and she was best friends with Harry-bloody-Potter and his shit-poor sidekick. And while he never really judged her based on her friends, he felt that maybe he should start if it meant that he would stay away from her.

He scoffed. _Yeah, right. Fat chance of that._

DHDHDHDHDHDH

Hermione still stood in that same place, same position, five minutes after Draco had already gone up to his room. She still didn't know what to make of the man. He was utterly confusing! And what was more, she _still_ didn't know what she saw in him. He was a prat. He was arrogant. He kissed like he would consume her in one bite. She sighed and finally moved out to the surprisingly empty common room and sat on the sofa in front of the happily blazing fire. Such a contrast to the melancholy that she felt.

She didn't delude herself into thinking that Draco Malfoy felt anything for her. She would have found it a miracle if he even felt _half_ the way she felt about him. No, she wasn't naïve enough to think that she may be in love with him. He was still and arrogant prick, after all. But he oozed charm and confidence and sex appeal from every pore of his lean, pureblooded body. It was absolutely alluring. And she didn't believe for one second that rot Lavender and Parvati have been saying for year, about how the Malfoys were part Veela. He was attractive, yes, but not in such a way that would move women to start wars over his face. His money, maybe, and judging from what she had felt pressed up against her body just moments ago, his masculine form could cause squabbles in the Great Hall at the very least.

It was just too bad that his personality for the past seven years had been absolutely repellant. He was a little shite. The running joke amongst the Gryffindor girls was that he could have been the sexiest thing to have ever crossed the threshold of Hogwarts, if only he never opened his scathing mouth. It was pretty to look at, but the sewage that spewed out of it was toxic.

And yet, she had fallen for him harder than she had fallen for any other bloke before him. The question was _why_? Had she ever stopped to think about why she had developed this silly crush on the boy who enjoyed making her life a living hell? The stupid boy who had, at many times, gotten her into trouble? The boy who called her names with that malicious tone and made her cry silently into her pillow more nights than she had bothered to count? Yes, Hermione, just why the hell DO you like him?

She sighed and stood up, heading for her room to contemplate the answer to that question.


	3. Chapter Three

**Part Three**

Draco stomped into the, yet again, empty common room three days after his and Hermione's second kiss.

She was avoiding him.

Which was just as well because he wasn't sure if he could be in the same room as her without pinning her against the nearest vertical surface and ravishing her within every inch of her life. He threw down his book bag and sat down heavily on the sofa in front of the merrily crackling fire.

_What the hell was happening?_

One moment, Hermione Granger is the most annoying bint that Draco had ever had the misfortune of coming across and now he can hardly keep his hands off of her? What was that about? What was it about this one not-so-special girl that appealed to him? There were plenty of other girls that were dying to throw their panties at him and he had to start lusting after the one most likely to wear a cast iron chastity belt. He groaned and tilted his head back to rest it against the sofa cushions.

She was out. At the library or with her two lapdogs, most likely. He scowled at that thought, vaguely noting some unknown emotion that came bubbling up at the thought that Hermione could be with Potter and Weasel. He sat upright and looked around the common room. It was nice and neat and not as much as a speck of dust to be seen. No signs that anybody else had been in this room, either.

He slouched down in his seat and allowed himself a moment of childishness and pouted. He didn't like this. He didn't like that she was avoiding him. All year, they've established a good rapport with each other. They were able to get along civilly and even joked with each other now and then. The tension, yes, it was there, but it seemed that they were both choosing to avoid it.

And then there was the staring. He knew she was staring and was somewhat flattered by it. Hermione Granger was labeled by every male at Hogwarts as the "Ice Maiden" and the "Virgin Queen." No one could touch her. She was as pure and pristine as freshly fallen snow. She had never, in all her years at Hogwarts, exhibited any sort of interest in any other boy save for that pauper Weasley. Draco scowled again at the thought and, once again, tamped down that vague feeling that seemed to be growing more pronounce as he kept thinking of Hermione in regards to another male. She was _his_. The way that she reacted when they kissed was a sign that she had never before been kissed the way that Draco Malfoy kissed, he noted with not a small sense of pride. But the pride was short lived. Exactly how many boys _had_ Hermione kissed before him? There was Weasel, of course. And for a short while, she gallivanted with that loser, McLaggen. And then there was Krum. Viktor Krum, star Quidditch player. Had she kissed him? Had she kissed _any_ of them? The way she kissed, it seemed like she had. Or could she really have learned that all from books?

He sat there for a long while, similar thoughts floating through his head, although he never stopped to analyze _why_ he was thinking like that, nor _why_, exactly, he knew all those details about her love life. He hadn't realized exactly how long he had been sitting there, thinking, until the room had grown quite dark. He finally looked up to see that the fire had gone out. After getting over a moment of surprise, he slowly stood up, meaning to put another log on when the door creaked open. Instinctively, he pulled his wand out. He let out a sigh of relief as the intruder stepped into a patch of moonlight falling through the window revealing Hermione's tired looking face. He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, young lady?" Hermione spun toward the voice in the dark, pulled her wand out with lightning speed and threw the first spell that came to her mind.

"_Rictusempra!_" She heard a loud thump followed by laughter as the voice in the dark fell to the ground and the spell overtook him.

"_Granger,_" Malfoy choked out breathlessly. "_Take it off, you madwoman!_"

"Malfoy!" She ran over to his side and ended the hex with a quick, "_Finite Incantatem!_" She turned the common room lights on with another wave of her wand as Malfoy sat up, looking disheveled and his face red from all the laughing. She giggled a bit at his appearance and he threw her a scowl.

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Granger, you crazy bint. What the hell was that for?"

"You startled me! I warned you about that, Malfoy. You were standing in the dark. What else was I supposed to think?"

"Well, what are you doing out so late anyway? Where the hell have you been?" Hermione smirked at him.

"Aw, were you waiting up for me? Worried about me, were you? I never knew you cared, Draco." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. Instead of a scathing insult, though, he simply threw her a lopsided grin.

"What if I was?" He winked at her and she blushed. She looked away and he cleared his throat to try and clear the awkwardness.

"Well, er, Granger. You still haven't answered my question." She rolled her eyes and busied herself by lighting the fire up again and walking over to their kitchenette to make some tea.

"If you must know, Malfoy, I was at the Gryffindor Common Room, visiting my friends." Malfoy scowled.

"Potty and Weasel?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes, _Harry_ and _Ron_. You know, my friends since first year? The two boys that you've been insulting and making trouble for since we've started attending this school?" His scowl only deepened.

"Yeah, I remember." He sat down on the sofa again, staring moodily into the fire. She giggled a little bit at his childish demeanor.

"Merlin, I knew you didn't like them, but I never realized that even just the mention of them made you this angry." She walked back over to him and handed him a cup and saucer. "Here, maybe this will make you feel better. Two sugars, no milk, correct?" He looked surprised at her thoughtfulness.

"Yes. I'm surprised you remembered. I think you've only made it once." Hermione smiled shyly and took a sip to try and hide her blush. Yes, she had only made it once. Four months ago, they had both ended up spending the night in, working on an Advanced NEWTs Transfiguration essay that was due at the end of the week. She had come down into the common room earlier that evening to find that instead of being at Quidditch practice, as he had been doing since the term began almost every free night he could manage, a bit obsessively, to be honest. He had been determined to beat Potter for the Quidditch cup this year and had gotten into quite a row with Hermione about it earlier in the school year. She had shaken her head, smiling at the memory. Boys and their Quidditch.

_"No Quidditch tonight, Malfoy?" Her voice had startled him out of his studying mode and he turned towards her, a pair of black glasses perched on his nose. She raised an eyebrow at them. She never would have pegged him for one with bad eyesight. He realized what she was looking at and tore them off his face, obviously a bit embarrassed._

_"No, no Quidditch, seeing as how your friend, Potty, booked the pitch during our usual time." His eyes narrowed then. "By the way, you didn't happen to let it slip that I usually use that time slot to practice, did you? Quidditch practice times are supposed to remain a secret and it has never happened before tonight? Are you sure you aren't spying for him?" As he spoke, his eyes began glowing with increasing anger. She rolled her eyes at him._

_"Oh, please, Malfoy. As if I would be that petty. I don't even care for Quidditch, remember? Besides, Harry only booked it for that time tonight because Ravenclaw called an emergency practice during _his_ usual allotted time slot. So don't go pointing fingers so fast, Malfoy," she ended with a huff. He settled back down into his seat._

_"My apologies, Granger. I'm just a little high strung when it comes to Quidditch, you understand. Forgive me." Her eyes widened in shock. Had _Draco Malfoy_ just _apologized

_"Yes, I do admit that I'm wrong from time to time. Get over it." He smirked at her and replaced his glasses before returning to his notes. Hermione finally realized that she had her own books and notes in her hand, ready to follow Malfoy's example. She cleared her throat._

_"Would you mind so much if I joined you here, Malfoy?" He looked up again and shrugged nonchalantly._

_"Why not? It's your common room as well." She hesitated a bit before finally coming all the way down the stairs and sitting in an arm chair several feet away from him, noting that something was definitely different about him. She had noticed it months earlier, when they had begun to live with one another, but she never really took note until now. She had been watching him since school had started two months ago, waiting to see if he would do something funny. Waiting to see if he had another plot up his sleeve to make her life miserable, living in such close proximity to her and all. But he had not. It seemed that the ferret finally grew up and realized that there was more to life than making your classmates' lives miserable. Yes, he did tease her from time to time and true, they still got into heated rows at least twice a week, but other than that, they worked fairly well together, suspicion aside._

_She titled her head to one side and just looked at him for a while. Looked at him for the first time without any prejudice against him, forgetting that he was…well, Malfoy. And she had to admit that he was quite attractive. Not as attractive as, say, Ron, who she was sort of dating at the time. Nor as handsome as Harry, but he was still good-looking. And he had an air about him that neither of the other boys had. Sure, he was arrogant and he practically reeked of it. But he also held himself with a positive confidence. He sat up straight, with perfect posture, but still managed to look relaxed as he did it. He was sure of himself and it made him seem so much more mature than many of her own friends. He also had a certain charm about him that made it difficult to remain angry with him, even after a particularly bad argument. She let her eyes fall upon his face, a bit obscured behind his shockingly blond hair. The glasses were new to her. She had never seen him wear them and she assumed that they were only for reading. It was no wonder he was always asking to see her notes; he probably couldn't see the board that well in class, but he'd be damned before he sported the glasses in public like Harry-bloody-Potter. She smirked a bit, shaking her head slightly. He had too much pride. If he wasn't careful, it would come back and bite him in the arse one day. But regardless of his worry, she thought that glasses made him look so much more sophisticated than he already was. And paired with the slight stubble on his pale face, he looked very grown-up indeed. _Very _grown up._

_It was then that something began to happen to her. She began to grow hot and even without looking at her reflection, she knew that her cheeks were getting rosy. She tried to distract herself from what she was feeling by looking away from his face and down at his hands. His hands that were moving furiously across a piece of parchment, putting words to paper, only stopping as he checked some data from the book he had perched on his knee before writing again. She took note of his long fingers with their short, and she was sure of it, manicured fingernails. They were clean, unlike Harry and Ron, whom she had to scold often for the state of their grubby hands. Malfoy's hands didn't look as roughened as Harry's and Ron's, either. Of course, _Malfoy_ never did yard work as the other two had. Merlin forbid that Draco Malfoy would mow his own lawn. She briefly, and naughtily, thought what he did with his hands instead. It was a bad thought to think, though because along with her rising temperature, she had to add dry mouth to her symptoms. She wondered if she might be coming down with the flu when he raised the hand that was turning book pages, his right hand (he was left-handed, she noted dumbly), to his mouth. Before she could guess what he was going to do, his tongue came out to lick his thumb before she turned another page._

_And that's when Hermione cracked._

_There was something about seeing that tongue that totally turned her on. Her face turned hotter and never in her life had she ever wanted a boy, man, as much as she wanted Draco Malfoy. She wasn't even sure if she _ever_ wanted a male in the way that she desired him. He had a sort of sex appeal that Harry and even Ron, sad to admit, didn't have. It came with the confidence that both those boys also lacked. And even as quickly as she realized that she wanted him, she also realized that she could never have him. What would Draco-sodding-Malfoy want with plain, bookish Hermione Granger? That thought was enough to make her want to cry with frustration. At herself for wanting him and at Draco for being so vain. She stood up, needing to get herself out of the room to compose herself. She began to cross over to the kitchenette, fully intending to make some tea and before she could stop herself, she called out to him._

_"Would you like some tea as well, Malfoy? I'm about to make some." He looked up, startled again, if not from her voice then from her kindly spoken offer. She scowled at herself for being so damn charitable._

_"Er, yes. Sure, Granger._

_"How to you take it?"_

_"Two sugars, please. No milk." She set about making the tea, muttering to herself the whole time, adding honey and lemon to her own tea before going back to the common room, handing Malfoy a cup and saucer. He took it from her, his fingers brushing against hers, and her earlier thoughts about those same fingers came rushing back to her. He smiled at her and she tried not to think that he knew exactly what was one her mind._

_"Thank you, Granger." She nodded wordlessly and went back to her chair to start on her essay as well, trying in vain to forget about all that she had thought about tonight._

"Granger!" Hermione shook herself out of her thoughts as Draco snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"Sorry, I was woolgathering. What did you say?" She turned to him and immediately wished that she hadn't. He was wearing those damn glasses again. Those sexy glasses that she was now very glad he didn't wear to class. She probably would never have been able to keep herself from jumping him if he had. Even now, it was taking all her self control not to.

"I was trying to ask you what that spell was, again, that McGonagall used to multiply that loaf of bread." Hermione sighed.

"Malfoy, she wrote it on the board. Why didn't you write it down?" He mumbled his reply to her, and although she heard it, she wanted to hear him say it loud and clear.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. What was that?" He rolled his eyes.

"I said that I couldn't see the board. Happy?" She tried very hard to hide the amused smile that played about her lips.

"You know, Draco, you wouldn't have this problem if you would just wear your glasses to class." He scowled.

"I don't want to wear my glasses to class."

"But why not?" He winced, as if he knew that his answer was stupid even before he said it out loud.

"Because I don't want to look like Harry-bloody-Potter, that's why! And because I look like a right git wearing them."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Draco," Hermione said, with a slight purr and not one bit of embarrassment. She was feeling daring tonight. She moved so she was sitting sideways facing Draco on the sofa, one arm resting on the back cushions. "I think they're sexy." He turned towards her, a slow smile creeping onto his face.

"Oh, do you, now?" He scooted in a little bit closer.

"Mhmm. _Very_ sexy. I'm sure all the girls would faint dead away at seeing them." They were inches apart now. And while for the whole week they had been trying to convince themselves that this was a Very Bad Idea, it seemed that they no longer cared. And it wasn't as if they could control it any longer, either.

"Maybe I only want one girl to faint dead away at my feet," he said softly and, for maybe the first time that Hermione had ever heard, sincerely. Hermione's heart began to race, but she remained calm. It wouldn't do to get her hopes up.

"Oh? Lucky girl. Do I know her?" And instead of answering, he lowered his lips to hers.


	4. Chapter Four

Helloooooo FanFiction world!

Terribly sorry for the long delay. Summer was ending, my 21st birthday came up, my irish boy toy went back from whence he came, leaving me a bit mopey.

BUT! I'm finally back with a little bit of inspiration from aforementioned irish boy toy. wink

No, not really. But I figured I'd make him my scapegoat anyway.

So, without further ado, here is...

**Chapter Four**

Draco Malfoy had officially gone over the edge.

No, he wasn't crazy, Merlin forbid. And no, he wasn't in love…yet. But it was close. Very, very close. So close, it was frightening.

Draco Malfoy was a one-woman man.

Oh, he could hear the sounds of thousands of girls everywhere sobbing for the loss. He sighed. _Sorry, ladies. I just couldn't resist._ And at that thought, another sloppy smile, just like all the unintentional smiles he had been releasing to the world today, graced his pale, patrician features.

Hermione Granger.

Hermione-sodding-Granger.

What the hell was the world coming to? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor. A Pureblood with a Muggle-Born. Draco and Hermione. _Draco_ and _Hermione_. He released a deep sigh and his smile grew deeper. Which seemed to have frightened a first-year because the little tosser let out a high pitched yelp and ran away. Draco went back to scowling. She was getting to him. And he was almost one-hundred-percent positive that he didn't like it very much. He was smiling. He didn't call her friends "Potty" and "Weasel" anymore. And, horror of horrors! he was (ugh)…_pleasant_.

_That_ particular ailment appeared just that morning when he noticed a poor, little, second-year whose bag had fallen, spilling all its contents all over the third floor corridor during the passing period. He had stopped and barked at every passer-by not to step on the poor girl's belongings before stooping down and helping her pick up all the stray items. She had beamed up at him and stammered out a quick "Th-thank you, Mr. Head Boy, sir!" before running off to class. It was only after she had gone that he realized that it was a _Gryffindor_ he had just assisted. His only consolation was that he managed to kick Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, shortly after to balance out the…_niceness_.

But it wasn't just the fact that he was slowly changing or even the fact that he was finally seeing someone exclusively that scared him. The part that scared him the most was that he was perfectly fine to just _be_ with Hermione. It was not a secret that Draco Malfoy could charm the pants off any girl and has succeeded in doing so many, many times. This was a fact not unknown to Hermione. He was aware of the unstableness of their very new relationship as well as her insecurities that maybe all he wanted was just that; to charm the pants off of her before dumping her and moving on to the next girl. But that was just the thing. He _didn't_ want that from her. He was perfectly content to simply walk her to class, kiss her goodnight, and snuggle up with her in front of the fire. Of course, he still lusted after her, but he _respected_ _her_. He didn't push or prod or pull out all his old lines and charms to get what he wanted. He was willing to wait.

Scratch that earlier statement. Maybe he _was_ going crazy.

He shook his head and realized that he had reached his common room. He blinked and tried to remember how he got there. Again, he shook his head and blamed his absentmindedness on Hermione. It was just so much easier that way. He muttered the password moodily and stomped into the common room. It was empty. There seemed to be little sign that she had been in the room at all, but somehow, Draco sensed her presence. He called out for her and received no reply. He shrugged and walked up the stairs towards the bathroom the Heads shared, still musing upon what had been on his mind during his walk. It didn't register that _maybe_ someone might have been using the bathroom and that _maybe_ that someone was getting ready to take a bath and that _maybe_ that someone was Hermione. Not until he heard her screeching his name and he looked up to see her scrambling for something to cover her scantily clad body with. Unfortunately for Hermione, the only thing within reach was a very small face towel. Fortunately for Draco, he was able to shake himself from his muddled thoughts to register what he was seeing.

And his jaw dropped.

Hermione, apparently, had been holding out on him. She had the body of a goddess. One may roll one's eyes and claim that Draco was embellishing the truth, as usual, but while that may be true, Hermione was nowhere near frumpy. She wasn't as slim as many of the other girls in her year; they all tried to exemplify the body type they saw in their fashion magazines. They all had that thin, waif look about them. Hermione wasn't that vain, but she wasn't entirely secure with herself either, which showed in her choice of style. She had started growing hips that would eventually flare out into a nice hourglass figure and, Draco couldn't help but be crude, she had, without a doubt, the best pair of tits he had ever seen on a girl. She had to have been no smaller than a C-cup. How in Merlin's name had she been able to hide _those_? His vision of The Most Perfect Breasts In Hogwarts was hidden by a pair of tanned and toned arms, which were quite lovely as well, but not as lovely as the aforementioned Perfect Breasts, of course. He finally looked up into Hermione's face, which had turned rather pink. Draco couldn't fathom why; having a body as perfect as the one he had just perused was hardly reason to be embarrassed.

"If you're done ogling me, you may leave now," she said frostily. Draco swallowed, trying in vain to moisten his suddenly parched mouth. He shook his head a bit and tried to recover the same arrogant mask he always wore. He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Actually, I don't think I'm done." He made a big show of perusing her body with his eyes, stopping once again on her Perfect Breasts. It was very obvious that she was trying very hard not to squirm and even harder not to notice the effect her nearly naked body was having on her sort of, kind of, almost-boyfriend. His eyes stopped once again on her face and she would have punched him square in his beautiful face if she hadn't seen that playful twinkle in his eye.

"There. I believe that I'm done now." Hermione rolled her eyes and gave up on modesty, dropping the towel back onto the counter.

"And now that you're done. You may leave."

"What? Leave before giving praise where praise it due? Surely, you want to hear what I have to say?"

"I'd rather not." He smirked, that playful gleam still in his eyes, and took a step closer.

"Oh, come on. You'll like what I have to say." Hermione sighed exasperatedly and crossed her arms over her chest again, suddenly feeling exposed again.

"Well, if you must. Go on."

"I think you're gorgeous," he finally said, matter-of-factly. Hermione blushed, but still managed to roll her eyes at his dramatics.

"Yes, well, you have to say that because you like me." Draco's expression softened and he quickly closed the space between them.

"No, I _want_ to say that because I like you." He brushed her hair back away from her face. It was surprisingly soft for how wild it looked. "I like you a lot, Hermione." Before he could help himself, he lowered his lips to her now exposed neck. He brushed them lightly against her skin, nipping at it gently and smiling as he felt her shiver. He inhaled deeply and could smell her hair.

"Mmm…" he murmured. "Your hair smells lovely." She laughed lightly.

"R-really? What does it smell like?" He held her by the shoulders and sniffed their hair by her temple.

"You smell like a fruit basket." He took a step back and looked at her face through heavy eyelids. She smiled at him amusedly.

"How very poetic of you, Draco." He returned her smile, rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms.

"Well, what can I say? You do that to me." She giggled again and suddenly wrapped her arms around his middle, looking straight up into his face. Suddenly, her expression turned a bit serious.

"Sometimes, you do that to me, too, Draco." He looked down at her and smiled. An honest, true to form, happy _smile_. The sight made her heart swell, it was so beautiful. _He _was beautiful. She couldn't understand how Draco Malfoy suddenly gained an interest in her. She wasn't beautiful in any sense; she didn't think so, anyway. Yes, she was passable, but she didn't think she had anything but ordinary looks. She didn't think that she was anything special. She was smart, yes. She read a lot, yes. She was bossy, sarcastic, and maybe even a cold bitch. She knew all the things people said about her. So how in the hell did she catch the attention of this remarkable, beautiful man?

"Why do you want me?" she blurted before she could stop herself. Draco pulled back a bit, surprised by her sudden question. He processed what she had just asked and an amused smile spread across his features.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't I want you?" Hermione looked down at the floor, down at her body, which was still underdressed for this conversation. But at the moment, she didn't care. She wanted answers.

"Draco, you can have any girl you want. But out of all the girls in Hogwarts, you picked me. And I want to know why. I know I'm not as beautiful as the other girls you've been with. And I know that all the boys call me the Ice Queen and…" Draco cut her off by putting his hand over her mouth. Immediately, she felt an electrical shock from his touch reach all the way down to her bare toes.

"Hermione…" he started. He looked into her eyes as if weighing what he wanted to say. Her eyes started welling up with tears. _Maybe he's finally come to his senses. Maybe he realizes that I'm right. Why did I have to open up my big mouth? _A tear finally escaped and trickled down her face. Draco wiped it away with his thumb and smiled before taking both of her hands into his.

"Come with me." He led her over to the mirror and Hermione looked away from her reflection. Standing next to him, she felt frumpy, plain. He took her chin gently into his hand and faced her back.

"No, Hermione. Look."

"I am looking. And I know…I'm plain." She caught his eye in the mirror and saw him smiling down at her tenderly. A very different look for Draco Malfoy.

"No, you're not. You're gorgeous." Hermione shook her head.

"I'm not gorgeous. Parvati is gorgeous. Lavender is gorgeous." Draco scowled.

"Parvati starves herself and Lavender, on top of being a complete slag, can be found everyday after meals sticking her finger down her throat." Hermione made a face at the mental image.

"That's disgusting. And how would you know this?" Draco smirked.

"The Weasley's are good for one thing, I'll have to admit. Those Extendable Ears are an absolutely ingenious idea. I wish I had thought of it." Hermione spun around and slapped his arm playfully.

"You're horrid, Draco Malfoy! Eavesdropping on private conversations! You should be ashamed of yourself." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh, and you and your two goons haven't done any eavesdropping of your own? I bet you three were the first to test them out." Hermione blushed as she had, in fact, been one of the first to use the Twins' invention. Draco's eyes grew wider at her silence.

"Why you…you did!" Hermione laughed.

"Yes, I did. So what? That wasn't the point."

"Right, the point was that you are gorgeous and you had effectively distracted me from my point by bringing up those two dolts, Patil and Brown."

"That's because they're…"

"Wasting away into nothing because they haven't learned to be happy with how nature made them. You, on the other hand, have not tried to change yourself into something you're not. You've kept yourself healthy and fit and exactly the way you were supposed to be. You're…" He paused as he tried to find a word to describe her. He searched her face for inspiration; he saw the raw, naked emotion on her face, unhidden from any sort of mask. He smirked at his own brilliant discovery. "You're _real_. And you're beautiful." She blushed prettily.

"You're the only boy who has ever said that to me.

"Well, I'm the only boy that matters at the moment, right?" Hermione looked straight into Draco's eyes and weighed the question in her mind. And she found that he was right. He _was_ the only boy that mattered. And she thought back to both the question she had asked herself before and the question she had asked him mere minutes ago. Why he liked her, she wasn't too sure. But she knew now why she was attracted to him.

He was incredibly confident in himself. But at the same time, he seemed to be confident in her as well. She didn't care exactly _why_ he thought she was beautiful. But him simply saying that she was made her finally _feel_ beautiful. She knew that there was that one occasion where she had turned heads at the Yule Ball in fourth year, but she had had to work very hard for the look. Two hours to achieve admiration for one night didn't seem like it was worth it to try to do it everyday. She simply wasn't that vain. But Draco found her beautiful even when she didn't try so hard. And he wasn't like every other randy boy at Hogwarts. Here she was, in just her panties and a lacy bra, and he hadn't tried to jump her. In fact, in the time that they've been together, for lack of a more apt term for what they were, he hadn't tried to do anything funny with her. He just seemed content to be together. And for now, that's all that she wanted from him. That's all that she could handle with him. For now. He was also incredibly smart, witty and she had already admitted that he was handsome. She cupped a hand around his pale cheek, noting the contrast between her golden-tan complexion with his porcelain skin. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Is this the part where you thank me for the beautiful compliment?" He waggled his eyebrows at her, his tone lascivious and his smile wolfish. She smiled and rewarded him with a steamy kiss; she was feeling bold today. She felt his reaction and while she still wasn't quite ready to "go all the way," she really did want to do something nice for him after making her feel so good about herself. She felt the tension in his arms as they wrapped around her, but stayed resolutely at her waist. She appreciated how noble he was being, respecting her and her inexperience as well as her comfort level. She inwardly smirked; she was about to stretch his nobleness, self-restraint and her own comfort all at the same time.

She pressed her body closer to his, fully feeling the response he refused to act upon. He groaned and allowed himself to keep brief contact with her tantalizing body before pulling away from her. He immediately regretted it after seeing the look of disappointment on her face.

"Draco…what's the matter?" He turned away from her, knowing that if he kept looking at her he wouldn't be able to maintain his self-control. As it was, he was already pushing it to the brink.

"Nothing, it's just…" He trailed off, trying to find a smooth way to put it, but knew that there was no way else to put it. He sighed heavily, and turned to face her, but kept his gaze to the floor. "Hemione, I meant what I said. I like you. I like you very much, but I also respect you and—" He was suddenly cut off by her lush body coming at his again, full force, her soft lips once again attaching themselves to his. She pulled away only a fraction of an inch so that her lips still grazed his when she spoke.

"Draco, I meant what I said and I like you very much as well. And I don't think I'm quite ready for sex, but I think I might like to try…other things." Draco pulled away enough to look into her eyes. He could tell she was nervous, but at the same time, he could see the resolve in her eyes. And maybe even the hint of something else, but that he didn't want to think about just yet.

"You're sure?" Hermione nodded and smiled at him. She leaned forward and grazed his ear with her lips, sending a delighted shiver down his spine.

"Show me how to be naughty, Malfoy." With those encouraging words, her took her by the hand and led her to a place she had never gone before.

His room.


	5. Chapter Five

AHHHHH!!!! Please don't hate me! I have a perfectly good reason for not having updated for so long. But they are unimportant now that you have, right here in front of you, the long, long, looooong awaited chapter five.

Enjoy! :]

* * *

**Part Five**

"Are you on drug potions?"

Hermione shook her head, realizing that 1) she had been staring into her porridge with a silly look on her face for about five minutes and 2) Ginny was speaking to her. She finally looked up at Ginny, unable to shake the silly look off her face and inwardly both cursed and sighed over Draco for making her that way.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. What was that?" Ginny continued to give her a strange look.

"I asked if you were on drug potions." Hermione raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Of course not. Why do you ask?"

"You're sure? No drug potions? A calming potion? Any sort of potion that makes you act like a normal person instead of the high-strung, stressed out, spastic Head Girl you usually are?" Hermione's eyes widened in alarm.

"Is that what people think of me?" Ginny shrugged as if to say, "It's not like you didn't know already." Hermione relaxed again, knowing that it was true; she really was all those things…until she started seeing Draco. She sighed.

"No. I'm not on any sort of potion. I'm just…" She trailed off, her gaze drifting off towards her beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, handsome…what was she talking about again? Ah, yes. Her boyfriend.

_Boyfriend_.

Hermione Granger had a boyfriend. And it was Draco Malfoy, no less. Draco _Malfoy_. _Draco Malfoy. _Draco BLOODY Malfoy!

"HERMIONE!" Hermione was once again shaken, literally, from her thoughts by a panicked-looking Ginny Weasley.

"Ow, Ginny! What is it?"

"What is the matter with you? For the past month, you've had this loopy look on your face. I was worried that you had been hanging around Professor Trelawney's classroom or had a brain switch with Luna or something."

Hermione laughed. "Really, Ginny. If I had had a brain switch with Luna, wouldn't you have noticed if she began acting like me?" Ginny's brow furrowed in frustration.

"That's not the point, Hermione. And stop dodging the question. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were in…" Ginny's voice drifted off as Hermione began to shift her gaze towards Draco once again. She found him at the same moment he turned his attention away from Blaise, who looked as if he was discussing Quidditch strategies with him, for a second. Their gazes met and he smiled at her, giving her a wink before replying negatively to something Blaise had said.

Suddenly, Hermione felt herself being dragged by the arm up and out of her seat, through the Great Hall doors and slammed up against the wall next to a suit of armor.

"All right, Miss Granger. How long has this been happening?" Hermione blinked, still reeling from what felt much like a trip on a portkey. Ginny Weasley was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

"How long has what been happening?" she replied back, rather dumbly, she had to admit.

"You and Malfoy! I can't believe you've been seeing him and haven't told me! I'm supposed to be your best friend, Hermione! I tell you everything about mine and Harry's relationship—"

"When I would rather you wouldn't, more often than not," Hermione interrupted with a scowl and a roll of her eyes. Ginny continued on like she hadn't heard.

"And here you are, carrying on a sordid love affair with one of the most sought after males in all of Hogwarts! How could you! And I was the only one who knew about your long standing crush on him—"

"Only because you caught me staring once and wouldn't stop badgering me until I finally confessed! And besides…it's not _that_ sordid…" Hermione interrupted again.

"Quiet! That isn't the point. I thought you could trust me, Hermione." Ginny looked so disappointed and downtrodden that Hermione felt truly horrible for not telling her.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry. It wasn't that I was keeping it from you. I would have told you eventually, honest. It's just that it was all so new and I was afraid that he was just trying to get me into bed with him before losing interest and throwing me away like he did all the other girls. I just wanted to know if I was different before letting anyone know. You understand that, don't you?" Ginny took a moment to absorb all that Hermione had just unloaded before answering.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you different from all the other girls?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably. It was still so soon. A month wasn't nearly long enough to figure that out, was it?

"Yes, I do believe she is."

* * *

Draco was trying to concentrate on what Blaise was saying. Really, he was. This upcoming match against Ravenclaw was crucial since it was the one determining whether or not they would play Gryffindor for the Cup. Draco had confidence that they would win, but it was understandable why Blaise was worried. Ravenclaw had been playing very well this season and could give Slytherin a run for their money. Draco went into this season as a headstrong captain with one goal and one goal only: to get that Cup. He had overworked his team to the bone all year, calling for extra practices when the pitch was available. But in the past month, he hadn't called any more practices than usual and had even cancelled their regular practice this past week in favor of cuddling in front of the fire with Hermione. He looked towards the Gryffindor table, and just as he predicted, she was looking right back at him. He smiled at her predictability and gave her a wink.

"Are you even listening, Draco?" Draco turned back towards Blaise and shook his head, trying in vain to hold back an amused smirk at Blaise's frustration with him.

"No, Blaise. I'm honestly not."

"What the hell is the matter with you, Draco? We have the second most important match of our entire Hogwarts career in two days and you're just going to sit there and twiddle your thumbs? We need to fit in another practice!" Draco shook his head.

"Blaise, do you believe in yourself?" Draco asked calmly.

"Of course, but—"

"And do you believe that I know what's best for you, the team, our house and our honor?"

"Yes, Draco, but—"

"And would you ever believe that I would allow any sort of disgrace to besmirch the Slytherin legacy?" Blaise sighed, knowing that Draco was about to dismiss him.

"No, Draco, I don't believe that you would do that."

"Good." Draco watched from the corner of his eye as Ginny Weasley dragged his girlfriend out of the Great Hall. "You trust me, right Blaise?"

"Yes, Draco. Sometimes I wonder why, but I do." Draco nodded and without another word, left the table to follow the two Gryffindors. He found them, Hermione pressed up against the wall by the Weaslette and tried very hard to control his urge to rip her grasp off of his woman. He stood just within earshot and made sure not to be seen until he thought it appropriate.

"…_here you are, carrying on a sordid love affair with one of the most sought after males in all of Hogwarts!_" It was the Weaslette. He smiled at her description of both his and Hermione's relationship and his reputation. He tuned back in to catch the last of what Ginny was saying. "_I thought you could trust me, Hermione._"

Draco felt a pang of guilt at Ginny's sorrowful tone. He knew that it was because of his reputation that Hermione felt she couldn't tell anyone. And he actually felt guilty about that. He cared about Hermione. Enough so that he felt bad that he was the reason that she had been distancing herself from her friends. It was a strange feeling since he was usually such a selfish bastard.

She had become so important to him in so little time. She understood him unlike anyone else. She knew that he was a right prick at times, but accepted that he wasn't going to change for her. But the funny thing of it was she made him _want _to change. Made him desire to be better _for her_. It was a strange feeling and he wasn't sure he liked it. In fact, he might go so far as to say that he was falling in love for the first time in his life. And it was scaring the shit out of him. Suddenly, his ears pricked up at what Hermione was saying."

"_I was afraid that he was just trying to get me into bed with him before losing interest and throwing me away like he did all the other girls. I just wanted to know if I was different before letting anyone know_."

Was she any different? Draco immediately knew the answer: a big, resounding _yes_. She was very different. With most girls, he didn't hesitate to try and seduce them into his bed. And most girls were more than happy to take him up on his offer. Most girls hoped that they would be the one to tame the infamous playboy, but they all failed. But from the moment he met her, he knew that Hermione Granger was not "most girls." Maybe subconsciously, he always knew that she was someone he should pay careful attention to. His usual prerogative was to "love 'em and leave 'em." Not so with Hermione. He respected her. And while he was a perfect gentleman, he had to admit, he didn't respect most girls very much. She was his intellectual equal and was not the type to let people roll over her. She was a little spitfire and yes, she could be bossy, but he could deal with that. She saw more than just his money and his family name. Most girls asked, even begged him to tell them all about how much money his family had. But, as established, Hermione wasn't like most girls. In fact, money seemed to be the last thing she cared about. (After all, she did associate very closely with the Weasel.)

"_Are you different from all the other girls?_" the Weaslette asked. There was his cue. He stepped out of his hiding place before replying.

"Yes, I do believe she is." Both girls turned to look at the newcomer. Ginny's eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion while Hermione's widened.

"Draco, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, not seeming to register his answer to Ginny's question.

"I do believe that I'm trying to save you from the Weaselette's clutches. You mind retracting your claws there, lioness, and let me have my girlfriend back?" Draco did not miss the glowing smile on Hermione's face when he claimed her as his _girlfriend_. It was strange for him to hear it passing his lips since he didn't really like to put labels on things but there he was.

Hermione could be either a very good thing for him or a very bad thing. He wasn't quite sure at the moment.

He watched with amusement as the Weaslette pulled Hermione aside and whispered furiously while giving Draco wary, narrow-eyed glances every now and then. The two women finally separated and the Weaselette (damn, he needed to stop calling her that before he slips in front of Hermione) went off on her merry, little, Gryffindor way.

"I'll be watching you, Malfoy," she hissed as she passed in a little ginger blur. He gave her one of his infamous Malfoy smirks.

"And I'll be watching you, too, Weaslette." She uttered a quite unlady-like snort of disgust and continued rushing away…leaving Draco and Hermione quite alone. Suddenly, the two seemed shy around each other. Hermione toyed with a loose thread hanging from the bottom of her blouse (how had Draco missed the fact that she wasn't wearing a robe? That uniform did absolutely nothing to hide Hermione's gorgeous figure!), while Draco, prior to noticing Hermione's underdressed state, was busy looking anywhere but at Hermione. He shook himself out of his daze and awkwardly, not to mention unnecessarily, cleared his throat.

"So, uh, what did Weas—er.._Ginny_ say to you?" He finally asked. (_Good save, _Draco, he thought sarcastically.) Hermione shrugged, the corner of her lip curling up in a secret smile.

"She said that I'd better know what I'm getting into." Draco cracked a smile as well.

"Is that right?" Hermione looked up and met his eyes. As soon as she did, Draco felt as if he had received an electric shock. His breath hitched and he felt as if he had to move closer to her. So he did. She did the same and wore a similar expression as he, and he knew that she felt it to.

"Do you, Hermione?" Draco whispered. He raised a hand up to cup her cheek. Automatically, her eyes closed and she snuggled closer to the warmth emanating from his palm. Draco's mouth suddenly went dry and he swallowed before finishing. "Do you know what you're getting into?" Hermione slowly opened her eyes, but did move much else. She licked her lips before replying. Draco mimicked the movement and felt a tightening sensation in his pants.

"Yes," she finally replied back, in a voice barely above a whisper. Draco raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk forming on his face."

"Oh you do, do you? And you still think it smart to be with me?" But Hermione wasn't amused. She very seriously continued to look into Draco's eyes as she replied.

"Yes. You're the only one who has ever made me feel…" She trailed off as if to think about what it was he made her feel. She moved even closer to him, wrapping her arms around him waist, absorbing his warmth. She felt as if every nerve ending in her body was on alert. She could sense him in every way possible. She took a deep breath and she could smell his spicy, clean scent. She ran her hands up and down his back and could feel the muscles tense. She pressed her ear against his chest and heard his heart beating at a strong and steady pace. She looked up and met his eyes again and could see them changing into a stormy grey. She finally tilted her chin up and raised herself on her toes to meet his lips in a hungry kiss. She could taste him. He tasted like nothing, and like the sweetest ambrosia at the same time. She pulled away, but just barely.

"You make me _feel_," she whispered right before he swooped down to claim her lips in another kiss. He drank from her as if she was the oasis and he had been trudging for miles across the Sahara. She consumed him as if he was the last meal she would ever eat. It felt like the kiss had been going on forever. But when they heard the murmurs of students leaving the Great Hall and broke apart, they both felt as if it didn't go on for long enough. They stared at each other for a few seconds, their breaths coming in short pants, both hardly believing the intensity in the moment they had just shared.

Draco finally broke the spell by curling up the corner of his lip in a small smile, _not _a smirk, Hermione giddily noted, and jerked his head to the side, indicating that they should begin heading back to their dorm. Hermione smiled as well and nodded before falling into step beside him.

"By the way," he murmured without stopping or changing the expression on his face. "You make me feel, too."

It took all her will not to skip the rest of the way.


	6. Chapter Six

Hello, hello, FanFiction world!

I am especially proud of how this chapter came out and I hope you are, too! I've submitted to your requests and for your diligent patronage to this story, you have been awarded...

...

...wait for it...

...

...keep waiting...

...

...oh, come on, you've waited two months, you can wait two more minutes.

Oh, alright. I'll just tell you.

90% honest to goodness **SMUT**.

So, for those of you who didn't ask for it, you may want to skip this chapter. For those that don't mind it, read on!

* * *

**Part Six**

He loved when she moaned. He especially loved when she moaned while he was above her, her shiny, honey-colored tresses spread around her head like some sort of clichéd halo across the silky black sheets of his bed. Her skin was on fire as he trailed his fingers lightly down her gorgeous body. He followed the action with his lips, stopping at the cute, little mole right above where her pink lacy bra covered up her undoubtedly beautiful breasts. He wouldn't know since they had yet to get that far. Not that he minded. Just hearing her moan and purr like this was satisfaction enough. His girlfriend was just so unbelievably sexy.

_And let's not forget naughty_, he thought, as her hand found its way into his boxers. He let out a moan as she began to lightly stroke him, a blush forming on her cheeks as she did. Even now, she blushed at the thought of doing anything sexual with him. It was endearing, really. She was adorable. He brushed a stray curl away from her face, looking into her big, doe-like eyes, which were growing darker with desire; a desire that most likely reflected in his own eyes. He let out a growl before diving into her neck, where he began to lick at the one spot that made her squirm beneath him. He trailed his ministrations up to her ear and he lightly nipped at her earlobe. Her back arched at that moment and he let out a deep groan as her lace-covered chest brushed against his, her already hard nipples evident even through the cloth barrier. He had to taste her.

He trailed his lips along her law, down her lovely neck, past her collar bone until he was face to face with The Most Amazing Breasts Known To Mankind. Suddenly, time almost stopped. The world around him had slowed down to about the speed of molasses. Ever so slowly, his hand came up to gently push one bra strap off her delectable shoulder. Then, hours later, it seemed, he pushed the other strap off her shoulder. _Draco_, she moaned. _Merlin_. Just the sound of his name coming from those luscious lips made him weak in the knees and sent his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Her hand continued to stroke him. He was so close…so achingly hard. _Soon_, he told himself. _Soon enough_.

He reached out a hand and cupped one soft globe of flesh, softly kneading it, making her sigh in pleasure. She closed her eyes, further arching up into his hand, her breathing becoming more labored with each movement of his long, talented fingers. With a devilish smirk, he bent down towards her other breast. With each breath, she was closer and closer to becoming completely exposed to him. He had been wondering for a long time, what color could these delightful little morsels be? Were they a rosy pink, reminiscent of ripe strawberries, and maybe just as sweet? Or were they a chocolaty brown, with a taste that could melt in his mouth? He just had to know. Without warning, he swooped down and latched his mouth onto her nipple through the cloth that still covered her. She let out a choked cry and the squirming became more intense. He sucked and nibbled, making her bra wet with his saliva, all the while, continuing to knead the other with his hand, every once in a while pinching the little bud at the top. He couldn't get enough of her. Even through her bra, she was delicious.

Suddenly, his world was flipped upside down. He was looking up at her, her hair wild, her core meeting his as she straddled him. As if he couldn't think of anymore adjectives, one more escaped his lips in a husky whisper. _Vixen_. She began to grind against his ever growing erection, causing him to let out more moans of his own. She bent down, nipping at his ear. _Say my name_, she whispered, her breath tickling against his neck, causing a shiver to go down his spine. _Say it, Draco. You know you want to_. She took his earlobe into her mouth, nipping on it lightly. He moaned again. She ran her tongue along his ear, a move she knew as the key to his weakness. She continued to grind against him, making it harder for him to concentrate. She grabbed his hand and put it up to her barely covered breast. He immediately began massaging it, complying with her silent request.

She sat up all the way, riding him harder than ever, covering his hand with hers so he knew not to stop. She felt so good, even without him being inside her and he grabbed her hips so that he could keep up with her rhythm without bucking her off. They both began to moan as they continued to move against each other, glistening with sweat. Amazing even himself, he found that he was growing closer to the end, just having her grind against him. His fingers inched their way to where his body met hers and found her little bundle of nerves through her matching, pink lace underwear. She let out a longer moan than before and began to buck faster against him. _Come with me_, he growled out, his fingers moving faster against her. _Say my name_, she replied back. And then she let out a scream just as his vision went white, her name spilling from his lips in a loud, guttural cry.

_Hermione_.

When he opened his eyes, the room was dark, Hermione no where to be found. His breathing was labored and, upon sitting up, he realized that he had made a mess of himself. He shook his head as he gingerly peeled the ruined sheets off himself and reached for his wand to do a quick clean up. That was the fourth night this week. This would not do.

Draco had now been…er…"dating" (for lack of a better way to put it) Hermione Granger for four months now. And, contrary to what the dream he had just had would lead the reader to believe, the most they have done together was heavy snogging in his bedroom with some light petting. The most he had seen of her body was The Bathroom Incident back in April, otherwise known as Chapter Four. He smirked as he remembered what had happened after that. Hermione was either a _very_ studious girl or she was just naturally good with her mouth.

He sighed one more time as he felt himself stirring to life again at that last thought. Perhaps a cold shower is in order. He had gotten used to them, after all, since he was so damn noble. As he got his things together, he contemplated on his relationship with Hermione. It was now June and very close to the end of the term. Soon, they would be fighting on opposite sides of the war. It wasn't that he wanted it to be that way; it was just the way that it was. Just because they had spent the last five chapters pretending the war didn't exist, didn't mean that it wasn't there. And as it became closer and closer to the end of term, he had to really evaluate his and Hermione's relationship.

He was beginning to fall in love with her, without a doubt. He wasn't quite sure, exactly, what love was or when it began to happen, but he knew that he had never felt this way before about any other girl. That had to be love, right? Hermione was intelligent, and caring, and sexy. She was also as bold as a lioness. She was the epitome of Gryffindor. She was a born leader and Draco admired her strength. He envied her that strength. He wanted more than anything to be able to be as bold as she was. He wanted to be able to do what _he_ wanted to do without consequence. He wanted to be able to be who _he_ wanted to be, damn his bloody reputation to hell. He didn't want that anymore. Hiding his relationship was beginning to take its toll on both of them. Everyone had someone and they didn't have to hide it, proudly strutting down the corridors hand in hand. He wanted that. He wanted to be able to stake his claim on his woman, tell every bloke, especially that Seamus Finnegan, who so obviously had a crush on Hermione, that she was taken. He wanted to be able to walk her around Hogsmeade and cuddle with her over tea at Madam Puddifoot's if that's what she wanted to do. He just wanted to _be_ with her.

But with this damn war looming just two weeks ahead, he knew that it was impossible, not to mention dangerous. He knew that there was no other choice but to fight with his father. He had been training since birth for this moment. But he also knew that he wouldn't be able to if Hermione wasn't safe. Along with the dream he had this night, he also had been having constant nightmares. He closes his eyes as he remembers the one from the night before. He's fighting alongside his father, alongside The Dark Lord. Curses are being thrown, he's striking down members of the renown Order of the Phoenix, Aurors, anyone standing in his way. He strikes someone down and he stops to see the face of his latest victim. To his absolute horror, it's Hermione, her once bright, doe-like eyes lifeless. He lets out an anguished cry as her dry, cracked lips ask him, _Why, Draco? Why?_

He stripped quickly and then stepped into the cold shower, bracing his hands against the tile wall. At this point, he no longer needed the shower to calm his hormones down. Just the thought of his nightmare did that job for him. After standing in the cold spray for a minute, he adjusted the temperature so that warm water poured out. He sighed once more as the question of what he was going to do circled around and around in his head without any answer. It had been nagging him more consistently lately since he didn't have NEWTs to worry about anymore (he received nearly top marks, only receiving one A in Transfiguration, to his dismay and Hermione, of course, received straight Os) and Quidditch season was over, Gryffindor winning the Cup, which had him in a foul mood for three days after. And even after all the chaos that was the end of term died down, he still managed to avoid Hermione, not knowing how to approach his dilemma without getting her upset.

He wanted to be with her. That was the only thing that he was completely one-hundred percent sure of. But he knew that right now was not the right time. They were from two totally different worlds that were battling against each other. She was too noble to her cause and he was equally loyal to his family duty to stick by his father, no matter how wrong Draco thought he was.

Finally, he turned off the shower knowing that it was totally pointless. He quickly dried off and had just wrapped a towel around his waist when a scream came from Hermione's room.

* * *

Blood.

There was so much it on the battlefield. She couldn't help thinking that it was appropriate since blood was so prominent in this stupid war. The fighting had moved further west and she had stayed behind to help those that were badly injured, but still alive. She stops at a body that had fallen facedown. She kneels down and feels for a pulse. Faint, but it's still there. She slowly turns him over and felt all the air escape from her lungs as she realizes that it's Draco.

_No!_ she screams. Tears begin to run down her face. His face is covered in blood and she not so sure that it's all just his own. She gently cradles his head in her arms. He opens his eyes and stares into hers with no emotion. _Is it over? _he asks. Hermione shakes her head, the tears still streaming down her face. Damn this stupid war! _I'm going to die, Granger,_ he manages to whisper. _I'm dying._

_No! Let me help you!_ she cries. The tears begin to fall harder, knowing that he may be beyond help. _Why would you want to, Granger?_ he croaks out. _Because I love you, Draco. I love you._ He laughs at her. _Stupid Mudblood. _And with that he pulls out a dagger and stabs her right in the heart.

She woke up screaming. She never knew if it was because he stabbed her or because he called her a Mudblood. She refused to acknowledge what it could possibly mean if it was the latter. Whatever the case may be, the tears streamed down her face and her breathing came in harsh, gasping pants. She was covered in a cold sweat and the covers were tangled all about her body. That was the third night in a row that she had had that dream. This time, the ache in her chest wasn't going away.

Before she had a moment to get herself together, Draco came barging in through her room via the bathroom door. She began to cry harder, suddenly needing the confirmation that he wasn't dying and covered in blood. She called out for him and reached out her arms. With lightning speed he was with her, stroking her hair and rocking her back and forth, assuring her that it was just a bad dream and that he was right there. She found it curious that he seemed to know exactly what to say without knowing what the nightmare was about. He began to drop little butterfly kisses on her face; on her forehead, the tip of her nose, her rosy cheeks. Finally, his lips met hers and before either one knew what was happening, it had grown fiery and passionate.

Hermione latched onto him tightly, as if she was afraid that he would turn into the Draco from her nightmare if she let go. She poured all of herself into this one kiss, realizing that her fear came most from knowing that she had fallen in love with this amazing man, but she didn't know that if he loved her back. She made a quick decision to not think about that right now and instead gave in to the sensations running through her body as Draco kissed her…and kissed her…and _Merlin_ did he ever kiss her.

Draco held onto her just as tightly, finally realizing that he had missed her. These past few weeks avoiding her he had been in an even fouler mood because he had missed her so much. He missed her laugh, her smile, the smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, hell, he even missed the annoyed glare she gave him when he made fun of her friends. He missed her more than anything and in that moment knew, just _knew_, that he, Draco Malfoy, had fallen in love with Hermione Granger.

The feeling was so overwhelming he had to stop for a moment. He pulled back and just drank the sight of her in. The stream of moonlight from the open window gave her and ethereal glow. Her lips were red from his kisses, her eyes were shining with want and maybe, just maybe, the love he had for her was reflected there, too. He smoothed his hand over her hair, down to her cheek. She closed her eyes and snuggled her cheek into his hand. Once more, he lowered his mouth to hers, but this time, he was gentle. He caressed her lips gently with his own. Over and over, his lips passed over hers. She gently gripped his shoulders, using him as an anchor as her body began to grow weak with every kiss.

_Draco_, she breathed. And like that, he was back in his dream, but this time, she was real. She was really there, touching him, kissing him, running her fingers through his hair. He deepened the kiss and she returned it with equal fervor. She ran her hands down his chest until they rested at his hips. He could sense when she realized he was wearing a towel and nothing else. She slowly pulled back, her hands still at the top of the single cloth covering him from her eyes. He gulped.

"Hermione," he croaked. "You know I respect you, and you know that I would never make you do anything you didn't want—." Draco was cut off as Hermione's lips met his again in another passionate kiss.

"Oh, I want, Draco Malfoy," she said, pulling away for just a moment. "I want you." Draco groaned at these words and continued plundering her mouth. He could never get enough of her lips. He lowered her down until she was lying back on the pillows. He looked down at her and was overcome with a sense of déjà vu. Her hair was spread about her head and she was looking up at him, waiting. He swallowed thickly for his throat had suddenly gone dry. He brushed the backs of his fingers across her heated cheek. Her eyes fluttered prettily as she turned into his hand. She held his had still before turning to kiss his finger tips. He smiled at the endearing action and she turned her head to smile back at him. His breath caught. She was so beautiful when she smiled.

"You're so beautiful," he said aloud. Her smile widened before she took hold of his head to bring his lips back to hers. He followed her action until he was just a breath away from her mouth. "Are you sure?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Need you," was all she said before meeting his lips. And he tasted like if she stopped kissing him, she would die. She felt, at that moment, that she really did need him. Her skin was warm. Her head was swimming. She couldn't think about anything except the feeling of his lips on her lips, his tongue running along hers, his rough hands as they touched every exposed part of her soft, heated skin. She cursed herself for choosing to wear pajama pants that night. What had felt like a choice for comfort before she went to bed was now turning into a nuisance. She struggled to get the damn pants off without dismantling Draco's lips from hers. After several moments, Draco finally pulled away and sat back on his heels, his hands hovering at the waistband of the offending article of clothing.

"Let me," he said in a gravelly, and oh-so-sexy, voice. She lay back and raised her hips as he slowly pulled the cotton pants down her legs and off her feet. He threw them on the floor and just as slowly made his way back up her body, dropping kisses along her long, creamy legs. As he dropped an especially long kiss on the inside of her thigh, she let out a soft moan and allowed her legs to fall open. He lingered there for a moment, nuzzling the spot his lips touched before inhaling deeply. He groaned and reached out a hand to touch the wet spot on her panties. She jumped at the contact and instinctively tried to close her legs. He stilled her with his hand, rubbing small circles on her thigh with his thumb. He looked into her eyes, waiting for a sign that it was all right to continue. He gave her a reassuring smile, undoubtedly an assurance that he would stop if she asked him to. She bit her lip at his sweet, caring nature; something she never would have expected from him until this year. She finally gave a small nod, to which he awarded her with a devilish smirk that sent a delicious chill to run down her spine.

He lowered his head back to her cloth covered core, continuing to rub her thighs. He gently spread her legs wider and settled down to lie comfortably between them. He first kissed one thigh, then the other before nipping lightly. Her back arched at the sensation of the pain mixed with pleasure. He worked his way back up her body, sliding her t-shirt up, groaning as he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra. She smirked to herself, pleased that she was able to make him groan. He quickly divested her of her shirt so that she was clad only in her soaked underwear.

And her breasts were every bit as wonderful as he had imagined. They were full and round, tipped with dusky pink nipples that were already hardening, reaching out for his hands, his mouth, whatever bit they could come into contact with. He reached out and cupped both of them in his hands, squeezing gently. They felt wonderful and judging by the soft purr coming from Hermione, she thought so too. He continued to knead her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers. She arched up her back even further, pressing her soft mounds deeper into his hand. He continued to pinch the rosy buds, loving the sounds of her moans as he did. He finally bent his head down and sipped one into his mouth, sucking on the hard tip before gently sinking his teeth into it. Her moans grew louder and her breathing grew more labored, just like in his dream. He moved to the other, continuing to knead the abandoned one as he gave its twin the same treatment.

His free hand soon began making its way back down her body until it reached her soaking core. He rubbed her through the wet cloth, letting out a moan at how wet she was already. He lifted his head and settled back between her legs, pulling at her white cotton underwear. She, once again, lifted her hips allowing him to pull the last bit of clothing away from her body. He faced her glistening nether lips and inhaled deeply. She smelled salty and sweet. He could feel the heat emanating off her core. He needed to taste her. He looked up to see that she was watching him through half-lidded eyes. He gave her another smirk and never broke eye contact as he licked up the entire length of the sweetest part of her. She tasted better than she smelled. He licked her again, circling her clit before bringing it into his mouth.

That mouth was wicked. She let out another strangled cry as Draco pushed his tongue deeper between the lips of her sex, drinking every drop as if it was the sweetest nectar. She was so wet at this point, she could feel it dripping down his chin. He honed in on her clit again and kept his attention on that little bundle of nerves while finally driving his finger into her tight pussy. She stilled at the intrusion, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling, before letting out a long, high-pitched moan as Draco began sliding his finger in and out of her slick passage, rubbing the pad of it along her front wall while simultaneously sucking on her clit. She was on a pleasure overload. She began to feel a pulling sensation around her middle. She tensed up, bracing herself for what she guessed would be her first orgasm, by Draco Malfoy, no less. Who would have thought it?

He continued to saw his finger in and out of her tight, little hole, quickening his pace a bit. He sucked harder on her little bundle of nerves, driving her crazy with pleasure. He added another finger, stretching her further. Her hips began to rock against his hand and face, needing release. She was so close. Then, he added another finger, stretching her even further, she almost felt full. She bucked shamelessly against his hand, grabbing a tuft of his hair as continued his work on her clit, rubbing his teeth against it. Finally, she let out a long scream as her entire body tensed up and an explosion went off behind her eyes. It was the most intense feeling she had ever had. She took a moment to try and catch her breath before opening her eyes. Draco was smiling like the devil with a secret. He offered her his hand and without hesitation, she took the fingers, covered with her juices, into her mouth, sucking them clean. She then turned the tables on him, pushing him down into the bed and attacking his mouth. She could taste herself on his lips and it turned her on all over again. She leaned back and reached for the towel that was ready to be ripped off. She threw it to the floor with her clothes and sat back to admire Draco's body in its entirety.

He was standing at full attention, smirking as she remembered that she had already seen that part of him several times before. She reached for it, stroking her hand up and down the shaft, squeezing it a bit and earning herself a groan from her beautiful lover. She settled herself between his legs, just as he had, and dove in without warning, taking his entire length into her mouth.

And what a talented mouth it was. He made a sudden decision that this one could not learn from books. Hermione was just bloody brilliant at fellatio. She licked up and down his length before adding her hand, sucking hard on the part that her hand couldn't cover. _Merlin_, this felt good. So good. Maybe too good.

"Hermione," he finally croaked out. "Baby, you have to stop. I'll come if you keep doing that." She looked up at him, licking the corner of her mouth as she came up.

"Mmm…as much as I love the taste of you on my tongue," she purred, crawling up his body like a cat, finally bringing her mouth right up to his ear, breathing hotly into it, "I want you inside me when you come." He growled and quickly rolled them both over so that he was on top of her again. His tongue battled with hers as he lined his center up with hers. They both groaned at the contact.

"Baby," she breathed. "I want you inside me." He smirked a bit at his wanton, little witch.

"A little help would be nice." She smiled up at him before reaching down and taking him into her hand once again, guiding it into her wet hole. He pushed in slowly so not to hurt her. Indeed, the sensation was different from his fingers. He stopped moving to lean down so that he could kiss her again. This kiss was gentler than the ones before. So achingly soft and warm and…_loving_. He was looking straight into her eyes, the grey orbs had darkened with lust and shining with an emotion she didn't dare try to place. He moved inch by inch, letting her become adjusted to being so full and _God_ did it feel wonderful. She closed her eyes and let the pleasure wash over her. It was so much better than anything she had ever felt before. She felt as if she was finally connecting with Draco. They were finally bonded as lovers. And with a sharp thrust of her hips and not even the slightest bit of discomfort, Draco was fully enveloped in her warmth. He began to move, back and forth, the friction causing another orgasm to build its way up. She grabbed onto his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his hips, rocking with him. She was so close.

"Draco," she panted, "I'm going to come."

"Good" he moaned. "I want you to."

"Come with me," she breathed. "I'm so close, baby. So close…" She continued to rock against him, their tempo becoming faster and faster with every thrust.

"Look at me," he growled when she felt they were both close. "Hermione, look at me." She opened her eyes and met his dark, stormy ones. She locked her gaze on his and saw, rather than felt, his climax quickly approaching. "Tell me when you're going to come," he breathed. "I want to come with you." Hermione nodded, unable to use her voice, she was so close. He was growing more erratic in his movements and it was just making her even hotter, if that was possible.

"Kiss me, Draco," she breathed. His lips met hers hungrily, his hand gripping the back of her head, his fist closing on a tuft of her hair. Between kisses he began repeating the same phrase over and over and she couldn't quite make out what it was. Finally, he pulled away to look into her eyes as he thrust harder into her, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room. She was just at the brink of orgasm when he repeated the phrase one last time.

_I love you._

And then she saw stars.

* * *

Aaaaaand, there it is. My first ever attempt at delicious smuttiness. I have no idea where or when I decided that I could, but don't hate me if you don't like it and don't hold this chapter against the rest of the story. If it's bad, I won't put anymore, I promise.

...But if it's not, ask politely and you just might receive.

Please be kind and review! :]


	7. Chapter Seven

**Part Seven**

* * *

It was dark when she awoke. It wasn't until she tried to inhale deeply that she realized that it was due to the fact that her face had become enshrouded in her massive mane of curls and not because the sun had yet to come up. She fought with her tangled mess for a few minutes jostling her bed-partner before she was able to get free.

Wait a minute…

_Bed-partner?_

She sat up quickly, dislodging the possessive, not to mention naked, arm of Draco Malfoy. The sight of his bare back forced to her assess her state of dress…or undress. She squealed before quickly pulling up the sheet to cover her equally bare and naked breasts and was successful in pulling what little covering Draco had, exposing his pale (and tight, and _oh!_ so perfect, Hermione couldn't help noting) bum. He grunted and began groping around for the sheet. Hermione smirked and decided to play with him a bit and pulled the sheet right out of his grasp. He groaned and cracked first one eye then the other and glared blearily at her.

"If I had known that you would be a blanket hog, I never would have stayed the night," he croaked. And maybe just a little sexily, Hermione thought perversely. But instead of voicing her thoughts, she simply stuck her tongue out at him and continued on to the bathroom, leaving him quite naked in her bed.

She closed the door quietly behind her before allowing herself to release all the giddiness that she had been holding in since the moment she awoke.

_He loves me! He loves ME! Draco Malfoy loves Hermione Granger!_

Her head was spinning and she felt elated and maybe even a bit overwhelmed. No one had ever told her that they loved her before. Not romantically, anyway. A wide smile spread across her face as she repeated it in her head, over and over again: _He loves me! He loves me! He loves me!_

She continued with this mantra as she walked over to the sink to splash water on her face. As the cool water hit her slightly heated skin, she realized that she never told Draco that she loved him back. Did she? Did she love him? She stared at her reflection in the mirror, drying her face with a towel as she contemplated this.

Draco was smart; a lot smarter than he let on in years prior, when she knew him as the ferrety git. She smirked at that last thought; sometimes he could still be a git. But he was a git that loved her. This git made her feel safe, and warm, and beautiful. He made her feel things that she never would have imagined from Draco Malfoy a year ago. But the thing that she liked—no loved—about Draco the most was that he had changed. He no longer was the boy who sneered and called her a Mudblood to make her cry. He was a scared boy who was taking his responsibility seriously. She couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen in two weeks when they graduated. She couldn't bear to think that they would have to be fighting on opposite sides. And it was all because Draco had an obligation to his family first and foremost. But she understood that. Above all, she understood that family always came first.

And while she understood, it also saddened her. Why the fates allowed her to find this special boy so late, she didn't know. She felt it was rather unfair…to both of them.

She walked back out to find Draco lounging in her bed, in all his naked glory, his arms pillowing his head, a lazy smile upon his face. She nearly melted on the spot, he looked so sexy. She glanced up at his mussed hair and nearly laughed out loud; it stuck up in every which way, making him look a bit like a blond Harry. It was rather cute, really. Endearing even. And it was this one thing, out of all the qualities that Draco possessed that convinced her.

She was in love with Draco, too.

And for whatever reason, upon this realization, tears began to fall down her face. Within seconds, Draco's arms were around her, wiping away her tears and rocking her back and forth.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked in hushed tones. She pulled away to look straight into his eyes.

"Draco…I love you, too," she replied seriously. Draco cracked an apprehensive smile.

"Do you really? I would have thought that was a happy thought, not a sad one." Hermione laughed and apologized as she wiped her tears away. "Why are you crying, Hermione?"

"I don't know. I love you and you love me. I'm happy about that. Ecstatic, even."

"But…?"

"We're graduating in two weeks. What happens after that? You have to fight with your father and I have to fight with Harry and Ron." Draco sighed and let his arms drop to his sides. Feeling too exposed for such a serious conversation, he walked over to where he dropped his towel from last night and wrapped it around his hips. He sat down heavily on Hermione's bed and motioned for her to come sit with him. As soon as she came near enough, he pulled her into his lap, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

"I missed you," he said simply. She laughed a bit.

"I was only in the bathroom for not even a minute," she joked.

"No…I mean before last night. I missed you." Hermione kissed the top of his head, sifting her fingers through his hair.

"I missed you too, Draco. I wondered what was going on. I even thought that you might be done with me," she stated quietly, a pretty blush blooming across her cheeks.

"Oh, Hermione…no! Never that! I'm sorry…I just…I've been thinking about graduation a lot and what comes after…"

"I know. I have, too." They sat in silence for a bit, just holding one another. Finally, Hermione couldn't take it anymore and broke the silence.

"I have to say, Draco, your post-coital pillow talk needs some work." Draco laughed. And with that, the sullenness had disappeared. Draco tackled Hermione back onto the bed, promising to do better next time.

-----

Draco was waiting in the common room, ready to walk with Hermione to breakfast. He was thinking about his and Hermione's situation and what was to be done about it. He loved her, without a doubt. And now he knew that she loved him, too. With that knowledge, how could he fight against her? He could never fight against her side, now. He'd be sick with worry the entire time, always concerned about her safety and welfare.

But at the same time, he couldn't very well go against his father, could he? The Malfoys were on Voldemort's shit-list and if there was ever a chance at survival against him, it would be to fight with him. The Dark Lord would kill him on the spot if Draco turned now. He sneered at that thought; what back-assed logic. But despite that, he knew it was for the best. Draco wasn't stupid; he knew he was expendable. He buried his head in his hands, unable to think about it anymore. He had two weeks with Hermione. Two very short weeks in which he had to spend every last minute he could with the girl who showed him what it was like to love. He wasn't going to spend it thinking about what would happen after, when they were fighting against each other. He looked up and saw that Hermione was standing at the top of the staircase leading towards their bedrooms, smiling at him. He smiled back and in a last minute, reckless decision, decided to fuck his family obligation and fuck Voldemort. He wanted everyone to know that Hermione Granger was his and would be his after this damn war was over.

"You look beautiful, as always," he said as he stood and met her at the bottom of the stairs. He blushed sweetly.

"Oh, you…" He took her hand, leading her down the last of the stairs and held fast as they walked to the door. He stopped, taking her book bag from her and carrying it along with the lightweight bag he carried for himself.

"Draco, what are you doing?" Hermione asked confusedly and a bit amused.

"Why, I'm walking my girlfriend to breakfast, of course."

"You don't have to carry my bag, people may see." Draco raised an eyebrow at her comment.

"Embarrassed of me, are you Granger?" Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed at the joking tone of his voice.

"Of course not, Draco. I just thought…" He cut her off midsentence.

"Don't think, anymore, love. It's starting to hurt my head. We only have two weeks of school left. I rather thought that you would have liked to enjoy it instead of worrying yourself about what people may or may not see." Without warning, Hermione flung her arms around Draco's neck and held him tight.

"I love you so much, Draco," she whispered tearfully. Draco dropped both book bags and embraced her back, kissing the side of her head, feeling that he didn't need to say anymore.

-----

The next two weeks passed in a blur. People did, indeed, see all that was going on between the two Heads. They had made quite an entrance that first day, walking into the Great Hall hand in hand. As soon as they passed the threshold of those large, double doors, people began to whisper. Draco, with a wicked grin on his face, decided to give them something worth talking about and dipped Hermione for a long kiss before sending her off to sit with her fellow Gryffindors. As she took her seat next to Ginny, she blurted out, and maybe just a little too loudly, "He loves me!" Happy for her friend, Ginny made no comment about the display of public affection. Her two male best friends, on the other hand, who have failed to notice anything that had transpired between their friend and their pale nemesis throughout the entire story, could only splutter in disbelief.

But after that first day, the students of Hogwarts had become quite accustomed to seeing Hogwarts' oddest couple around school. They were often found in the library sitting close to one another, their hushed conversation taking on intimate tones. They had even been so bold as to venture outdoors, under Hermione's favorite tree, his head in her lap as he dozed and her nose buried in a book, playing with his silky, blonde hair. But no one could question the absolute love that the two had for one another and everyone, even their professors, worried about what would happened after this term was over.

Two days before graduation, one professor in particular thought that it was time to put an end to the foolishness before it was too late. Snape approached the Heads dormitories with purpose and authority, robes billowing out from behind him while he went. He stopped in front of the portrait and asked if the Head Boy was in.

"Yes," the portrait answered, a bit suspicious, even if he was a Hogwarts professor. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Well, then, are you just going to stand there and glare at me or are you going to let Malfoy know he has a visitor?" The portrait 'harumphed' delicately (she was, after all, a nymph, and a rather beautiful one; delicately would be the only way to 'harumph' if she had at all) and turned to call for her Master. Within a few moments, Draco came to the door, yawning widely, his hair in disarray and shamelessly scratching his t-shirt covered belly.

"Professor. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?" Draco said sarcastically, even adding a bow just to annoy Snape. Snape rolled his eyes, yet again.

"Just let me in, Draco. If this wasn't important, believe me, I never would have bothered to venture up all this way," he answered in a bored tone. But his explanation did, however, drive home the seemed importance of the situation and Draco stepped aside to grant him entrance without anymore comment.

As soon as they were settled down in the Head's common room Draco sipping quietly on his tea while Snape's sat untouched on the table, Snape went right into the explanation for his visit.

"Draco, you need to end this…thing…with Hermione Granger." Draco continued to sip on his tea and let the comment hang in the air for a few moments before answering.

"No, professor, I don't think I will." Snape sighed impatiently and sat up a bit straighter.

"You're mad, boy, if you think this will last. You do realize that you are totally wrong for each other, don't you? Have you forgotten who she is? Who _you_ are? Your father will not stand for this; as it is, he's already begun to send me a Howler a day about the 'rumors' about you and Miss Granger." Suddenly Snape dropped his voice to barely a whisper. "And not to mention what the Dark Lord will say when he hears—"

"Well, he won't hear," Draco interrupted suddenly. "Look, I don't know what this is, ok? All I know is that we've both decided to carry it out until graduation and maybe until after. We'll carry it out as long as it'll last. We're not stupid; we know the risks involved and we know what happens after graduation." Draco stopped to take a breath. When he began to speak again, his voice was quiet, sad even. "We know that we'll be fighting on opposing sides. But that's just how it'll have to be. I have a duty to my family and she has a duty to hers. There's no way around that. But I've made so few decisions for myself in the time I've been here. This is the one thing I decided I'm not giving up…not even for Lucius and especially not for Voldemort. So, please, Professor…let me just have this one chance to do something for myself."

Snape stared at Draco for a while, as if assessing and absorbing every word of Draco's tirade. Finally, he nodded, stood up, and then exited, all without uttering a single sound. Draco stared after him puzzled and even a little nervous. Would Snape tell his father? Worse, would Snape tell Voldemort? What would happen they either of them found out. Draco figured that the worse he would get from Lucius was a tongue-lashing and a dirty look. But what about Voldemort? Would he kill Draco? Or worse…would he kill Hermione? Draco shook his head of the thought. There was no use in jumping to conclusions and worrying about it now. There were only two days left until they graduated. Two days left without a care outside of these stone walls. Two days left of happiness.

Draco scrubbed his hands over his face as if trying to physically erase the thoughts from his mind. He really needed to stop thinking of all of that. It wasn't as if there was anything he could do about it all. He needed to keep living in the now. Now was what was important. Nodding with his resolve back in place, he stood and climbed back up to his room. He slowly opened the door, willing the old hinges not to creak. He smiled at the lumpy form in his bed. He stripped out of the t-shirt and trousers he hastily donned to answer the door and climbed back into bed with Hermione. She stirred a little as he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead.

"Where'd you go?" she asked, still half-asleep.

"Just to the loo, darling. No need to worry."

"'Kay." And seemingly satisfied with that answer, she fell back to sleep, her breath fluttering lightly against his bare chest. He tucked in his chin to watch her sleep and sighed sadly. He would miss this. No matter how much he tried not to think about it, the reality was that they only had two days left together. There was no way around it. Only two days left before they had to go their separate ways. And after that, who knew when they would be able to see each other again.

But it was that last glimmer of hope, the faith that they _would_ see each other again that kept Draco hanging on. He knew that Voldemort was weak; the Dark Lord was becoming madder with each passing day, more suspicious, more vulnerable. He wished with all his might that he could fight alongside Hermione, on the side of the man that he came so close to killing the year before. The man who almost gave him a second chance. He wished he could fight to protect her, maybe even fight in her place and get her out of harm's way if he thought for one second that she would let him. But it was too late now.

Tired from the thoughts swirling around in his head, he finally succumbed to his exhaustion and fell asleep.

A moment later, Hermione opened her eyes and tilted her chin up to whisper in her sleeping lover's ear, "It's never too late, Draco. Never…"

* * *

**A/N: **Please don't hurt me for taking so long to update. I have a life outside of fanfiction, you know.


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N: I apologize profusely for such a long wait. I kept coming back to this and I would forget what I wanted to happen in this chapter. But after a long, long time thinking about it, I've finally finished, and I'm not quite sure if I like it, but regardless, I hope that you, my faithful readers, do. Happy reading!**

**

* * *

**

All over Hogwarts, seventh years were tittering with excitement; they had finally done it! Seven years of grueling, hard work, stress, exams and tears all built up to this one climactic moment: Graduation.

But while others were filled with anticipation and excitement for this moment and the future, the Head dormitories were only filled with sadness and despair.

Hermione sat on her bed in her graduation gown, staring out the window, at the beauty of the plot of land Hogwarts sat on, while scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. She had already received several offers from the Ministry, the Daily Prophet and the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, just to name a few. She also received a scholarship to _L'Université de Magie_ in Versailles, France for whatever subject she chose to study. It was an honor and a wonderful opportunity, but there was only one, teeny, tiny problem.

A soft knock came from the door leading to her and Draco's shared bathroom. "Speak of the devil," she murmured to herself. She called for him to come in and he strolled into the room gracefully. She often envied him for the fluid way that he moved; as if he was waltzing rather than walking. He was breathtakingly handsome in his graduation gown, which was hanging open to reveal the perfectly tailored dress robes he wore underneath. She sighed and smiled shyly at him. She would never get over his good looks, she supposed. She'll always feel grossly inadequate next to him even though he considered her to be a goddess. Love truly was blind. Her smile grew wider and she slowly met with him, trying very hard to emulate his grace. His arms immediately wrapped around her body and he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. Hermione sighed again, this time with contentment and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Today is the day," Draco stated quietly. Hermione could only nod. "Have you made a decision yet?" She shrugged.

"I was actually just thinking about that before you came in. I still don't know, Draco." But she knew what she didn't want to pick. It just so happened that it was the one opportunity Draco urged her to take.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. It would be foolish to not take the scholarship. Do you know how many scholarships _L'Université de Magie_ distributes every year? One. _One_! And they chose you!"

"I know, Draco. But…" At her hesitation, Draco pulled her body away from him to look straight into her eyes.

"Listen," he said firmly; seriously. "I know you love me as I do you. But you can_not_ refuse this opportunity because of me. You can't let me hold you back. You are the smartest witch in our year. Hell…you're the smartest witch Hogwarts had ever seen. You deserve more than to be stuck in some mundane job with the Ministry just because you want to stay with me. I won't allow it." He sighed and his tone turned graver. "Plus…if you're there, you can get away from…" He trailed off, letting her make the correct assumptions. Her eyes turned fierce.

"Draco, you know I can't leave Harry and Ron. I won't. I _want_ to be there." He sighed again and closed his eyes, his hands coming up to lightly grip her shoulders, calming her.

"I know, I know. This is just as much your fight as it is theirs. I'm just worried about you, is all." Hermione's face softened again.

"It could be your fight, too, you know," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I could talk to Harry. We could protect you." Draco shook his head.

"You know I can't, Hermione." He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. Hermione flinched and was immediately sorry for her reaction when he sharply pulled his sleeve back down. "He'll always know how to find me with this damn mark." Hermione said nothing and wrapped her arms tightly around him again, wishing that she could absorb all his frustration and stress. Wishing that there was something she could do. Tears pricked at her eyes and she tried fruitlessly to keep them from falling. She sniffed quietly and embraced him harder.

"I love you, Draco. So much…" she whispered. He pulled out of her grasp to look at her face.

"Hey…no crying. It'll be ok, Hermione. I promise." He kissed her waiting lips and pulled her into a quick hug before pulling away again. "Before I forget, I got you something."

"Draco, you didn't have—" Draco cut her off with a quick peck on the lips.

"Of course I did, you silly girl. You're graduating at the top of our class today. That's worth celebrating. Plus, you're my girl. It would be completely amiss of me not to have anything for you." Hermione smiled hesitantly as he took hold of her hand and led her into his room.

"No peeking, love. I'll need you to close your eyes." Hermione giggled and did as he asked. She allowed him to lead her through their shared bathroom and into his room. She listened as he rummaged through what she assumed was a drawer and smiled amusedly as she heard his triumphant "Aha!" when he found what he had been searching for. Suddenly, she felt his presence standing in front of her again.

"Ok," he said, maybe with a hint of nervousness. "You can open your eyes now." Hermione opened her eyes slowly and saw that Draco was holding a little, black, velvet box. She took it gingerly, afraid to see what was inside.

"Well," Draco said impatiently. "Aren't you going to open it?" Hermione stole a glance at him and smiled again before slowly prying open the little box. She wasn't normally the kind of girl that wore jewelry, but she knew immediately that she would be wearing this piece everyday.

"Draco…" she breathed out. "It's beautiful." Lying inside the little box was a simple necklace. The chain was made from a gossamer strand of white gold that could only carry the charm hanging from it by magic. The charm itself was a white rose carved out of what seemed to be…

"Moonstone?" Hermione asked incredulously. Draco grinned.

"Yes, it is. You have a good eye. And the chain is platinum."

_Platinum?_ Hermione knew that Draco had money, but this was beyond her comfort level.

"Draco, this is too much." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Hermione, someday you're just going to have to accept the fact that I am going to spend as much as I damn well please on you. Hopefully, you'll even learn to appreciate it. As it is, you've been rude to not even thank me." Draco pouted and Hermione couldn't help but laugh. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss.

"I'm sorry. Thank you. Really. It's absolutely beautiful." Draco's eyes softened at the sincerity of her thanks.

"Yes, well, it was the closest thing I could find that came close to matching you." Hermione rolled her eyes, but even so, gave him another kiss before asking him to help her put it on.

"I love you, too, Hermione. And I promise that everything will be alright."

&&&

Everything was _not_ alright.

Draco's leg twitched as if he had ants in his trousers. For some reason he could not name, he felt jittery; as if something was about to happen. Something big. He continued to jiggle his leg and tried hard not to squirm in his seat too much as he waited for the last few names to be called.

"Ronald Weaseley!" Professor McGonagall yelled. Weaseley stood and walked awkwardly to the podium where Snape handed him is diploma and all the professors stood in a line, shaking his hands. Hagrid scooped him up into a giant bear hug, just as he did with Hermione and Harry, with a few tears rolling down his face. As Weaseley began walking back to his seat, it started. _He_ was calling. Draco tried not to hiss in pain as the mark tattooed on his left arm began to burn. He kept his expression bored and neutral as he scanned the faces assembled in the Great Hall. He found Hermione's quickly and waited until she turned to look back. It was like watching her in slow motion as she turned her head and finally looked at him, smiling.

For one second, Draco forgot the pain and smiled back. That one second felt like hours. Then suddenly, he was reminded of the seriousness of the situation as his arm burned again. He winced slightly and discreetly scratched at the mark hidden underneath his clothes. The slight motion was meant for Hermione and she caught on quickly. He watched as the color visibly drained from her face, her mouth going slack from horror. And then as quickly as it happened, her face set in a look of fierce determination and allowed the color to come back to her cheeks. She gave him a steely look, nodded once and turned back around just in time to see Blaise Zabini, the last graduating student, walk up and accept his diploma.

Draco smiled despite the seriousness of the situation and knew right then that he was the luckiest man alive to have a girl like Hermione. She was brave and determined and smart as they come. She was everything he never thought he would ever want in a girl and she was his. He didn't know how she finally came to love him, and he knew that he certainly never did anything to deserve a girl like her, but whichever Fate decided that he did, he silently thanked them.

Blaise sat down and McGonagall took center stage once again. She cleared her throat once before she began to speak.

"Today," she began, "I stand before you, one last time, as your Headmistress and all here sit before me, once last time, as students at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In all my years of teaching, never have I seen a class who had seen and experienced so much in so little time." Here, she gave a small smile in Harry's direction, who sheepishly shrugged, but smiled all the same. "Through the horrors and the excitement that has been these last seven years at Hogwarts, I have seen you all fight and trudge through and I have never been more proud of a graduating class as I am at this moment. But most of all, the late Professor Dumbledore would have been proud of all of you, too." Here, she gave a short, but soft glance in Draco's direction. Hermione caught it and smiled. She glanced again in Draco's direction, who seemed to have relaxed at McGonagall's gaze, but his face became tense again as he once more scratched at his arm. Immediately, she remembered that they all could be in danger.

She folded her arms over one another and felt to make sure that her wand was still accessible, tucked away into her left sleeve. Her heart pounded wildly, the blood rushing through her ears, making her unable to hear anything else that McGonagall was saying. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her pulse by taking in a few deep breaths. She was ready for this, she told herself. She had been preparing seven years for this moment. _This_ was what she worked so hard for. Not to receive the ridiculous amount of job and scholarship offers that now sat unanswered at the bottom of her trunk. Since the moment she stepped across the threshold of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she fought the prejudice this world had against her kind: Muggle-borns. _Mudbloods_. More than anyone else, she had to prove that she belonged in this world. She had to earn her right to even hold a damn wand.

And now was the true test. All her adventures with Harry and Ron were just the practice runs for the real thing. This moment was what would prove above everything else that she was part of this world and she wasn't leaving. She was graduating at the top of her class, today, damn it, and that should prove something to every damn pureblood bigot that she would be fighting.

But above that need to prove herself, she had Draco. Draco who loved her, who she loved back. Draco who had shown that even the biggest pureblooded, bigoted prick could put aside his long ingrained beliefs to fall in love with the Mudblood best friend of Harry Potter. Draco who had to fight against her. Draco who she would rather die protecting than see him hurt or killed. The image from her horrible nightmare swam before her eyes. She shook it away. No. That won't happen. She won't let it.

She gripped her wand harder, her steely resolve tightening her muscles. She was scared out of her wits, yes. But she also knew that she was ready. And, hell, if she got out of this alive, she would answer "yes" to _L'Université de Magie_ and demand that Draco come with her. He was never leaving her side again after this.

Hermione tuned back into her surroundings just in time to hear the tail end of McGonagall's speech.

"And now, I proudly present the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's graduating class of 1998! Congratulations!" The seventh year students all rose in an uproar, hats thrown in the air, confetti raining down from the ceiling. Friends sought each other out to give each other congratulatory hugs. Tears were streaming down Lavender and Parvati's faces as they embraced, happy that it was all over, sad that they would be going their separate ways. Hermione waded through the crowd of her fellow—no, make that _former_—classmates to look for Draco. She stood on her toes to see over everyone's heads, searching for that shock of platinum blond hair. She found him near the door of the Great Hall. He caught her eye and discreetly motioned for her to slip out with him.

She followed quickly, and came out just in time to see Draco slip into the nearest broom closet. Rolling her eyes at such a clichéd hiding spot, she quickly picked up the pace to follow him in. She closed the door behind her and immediately lit her wand.

"Draco, is it really necessary to have this conversation in a broom closet?" she asked, both amused and perturbed, for it was very dusty in here.

"Sorry, but it was the first place I saw to hide," he replied back, quite seriously, as he gently gripped her shoulders. "Hermione, he's calling for me." While guessing as much, hearing Draco actually say it was even more frightening. She gasped and immediately began to tremble. Draco wrapped his arms around her and began to rock her back and forth, but not trying to shush her.

"You can't, Draco! You mustn't go! Please…don't go to him!" she began to plead, and, had she been more coherent, she would have been embarrassed that she also began to sob and bawl like a baby. She clutched his robes, staining the fabric with her tears as she buried her face in his chest, her back heaving with sobs, her fear for his life overtaking her entire body.

"Please, Draco…don't. I wouldn't be able to bear it. I can't fight you." At this, Draco finally pulled her away from him.

"Hermione, look at me," he said fiercely, his own voice thick with emotion. "I have to go. You know that I have to, just as you know that you have to." Hermione nodded quickly and began to swipe her tears away, smearing her make-up a little in the process. Draco smiled and reached up to wipe away the smudge with his thumb.

"We don't have to fight each other, you know," he said quietly, as his thumb continued to caress her cheek.

"But Draco, you said that you wouldn't—" Draco shushed her by putting a finger to her lips.

"I know what I said, and I know that we've already decided what sides we'd be fighting on, but I can promise you that I would never, ever, let any harm come to you. I'll try my damndest to protect you out there, even if it means hexing my own father. I promise you that. But that is as far as I can promise, okay? I can't promise that I won't hurt people that you know or care about and I can't promise that you won't hate me when I do." Hermione pulled Draco's hands away from her face and just held them lightly within her own hands.

"Draco, I promise that I will never, ever, hate you for the things that might happen tonight or during this war. You've chosen your side and I've chosen to love you regardless. And I also chose to die trying to protect you because I wouldn't be able to bear it if I saw you hurt." Draco smiled a bit.

"My brave lioness. While I appreciate the sentiment, you cannot promise me the same thing that I have promised you. It wouldn't do to have us both dead trying to protect the other, would it?" Hermione finally smiled back and wrapped her arms around his waist again, breathing in his scent.

"I love you, Draco, so very much." Draco hugged her back, tightly, hoping against all odds that he would someday see her again.

"I love you, more. And I know that I don't deserve you, but if I survive this war, I'm going to make sure that I never let you go."

"Promise?" she asked quietly, slightly muffled against the cloth of his graduation robes.

"I promise."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Let me apologize, once again, for failing to update. I've run into a block of sorts since the release of Deathly Hallows. It kind of threw me off the original storyline. Obviously, we are going to disregard most of it. However, as you will see in this chapter, some of it proves to be very useful to the progression of the plot. I'll put in my disclaimer now and say that I do not intend to profit from any of this. I'm simply playing with the characters and situations of Rowling's invention.**

**Anyway, enough of my rambling. On with the show!**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Six months.

That's how long it had been since she had last seen Draco. After they had left the broom closet and gone back to the Great Hall, Hermione to her beaming and clueless Muggle parents and Draco back to his family of Death Eaters, he had vanished after having a quick and hushed conversation with his father, along with a few other Slytherin families. Hermione inhaled deeply, inwardly begging her tears not to fall and praying that he would be alright. And since then, she had continued on with her life without him, but missing him dearly.

Six months. No sight, no word, not even an inkling of what could have happened to him.

But then again, it wasn't as if she talked to many people who would have heard word. The evening of graduation, as she was packing up to go home with her parents the next day, Ginny rushed in with a grave expression on her face.

"Order meeting. Now." Those three words were more serious than anything else Ginny could have said. They had walked briskly to McGonagall's office where Harry, Ron, the Weasleys and every other member of the Order of the Phoenix (with the obvious exception of Snape) were gathered. The Slytherins' sudden disappearance at the graduation had not gone unnoticed. The meeting was brief and it resulted in the decision that Harry, Ron and she would go searching for the remaining Horcruxes and she had been journeying ever since.

Versailles could wait, her career could wait, hell, even Draco could wait. The world as they knew it, however, could not. They all knew this and it was with fierce determination that they set off on their journey. Six months and they still came up empty. Six months and Hermione felt empty.

Six months.

That's how long it's been since he had seen her face, worry lines marring her beautiful face. Worry for him, worry for her, worry for what was to come. Six months since he had last spoken to her. Six months since the Dark Lord had summoned all his minions and hissed out various missions to be carried out before the final attack. Since failing his first mission, Draco wasn't considered a top ranking member of the Dark Lord's circle, so he had been given the mundane task of guarding the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, ensuring that none of the prisoners escaped. It was a tedious task, but he did it. Not out of want to keep his "master" happy, but to ensure that one day, his life would return to normalcy and, above all, he would be able to see Hermione again.

He shifted in his hard chair, trying, as he did most days, to ignore the stench and the biting cold of the dungeons. He was hardly ever let off guard duty. He couldn't even remember the last time he saw his father properly. The only time they ever met was at meetings. In fact, the last conversation he could recall having with Lucius was graduation. But every time since then that Draco had seen him, he looked more stressed, more worried and definitely more tired than he had ever seen his father before. Lucius, even on his worst days, never looked like anything other than the posh, Pureblooded aristocrat that he was.

This worried Draco. For all the coldness that his family exhibited to all outsiders, family loyalty was held above all else. The Malfoys, first and foremost, were a distinguished and long-lived Pureblood family and Slytherins second. Their status as Death Eaters was a mere footnote in their genealogical history. Lucius had made the mistake of following a madman, but he kept the lunatic in his home to protect his family. It was too late to do anything else to possibly protect them, but right now, both Draco and Narcissa understood that this was best. Lucius was a hard man, without a doubt, but the devotion and love he had for his family was unmistakable and Draco still cared about him even though he didn't necessarily hold the same ideals as Lucius anymore.

Finally, someone was sent down to relieve Draco of his duties and he tiredly made his way up to his room. A glance at the clock told him that it was nearly midnight. He took a look at his bed and decided that, while he was tired, he was not yet sleepy, and instead sat down at his desk. For a brief moment, he considered sending an owl to Hermione, but quickly dashed the idea as soon as it had formulated in his head. It was too dangerous. His home was under constant surveillance and he was sure that not one piece of correspondence passed through there without having been screened first. He sighed and pushed himself away from the table and strolled to the window. The sky was a murky black, the ground a contrasting white, and, with a jolt, he realized that it was Christmas Eve. He allowed himself the torturous thought of how he could have been spending this holiday with Hermione. He hadn't even been able to get her a present. He promised himself that whenever it was that he saw her next, he would buy her ten presents to make up for this Christmas.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a soft knock at the door. He sighed and stood to open the door and was surprised to see both his parents standing there. His mother was holding a tray of what looked like mugs of hot chocolate and his father, still thinner, but more relaxed that he had seen him in close to three years, looked as if he was holding something behind his back.

"Good evening, Father. Mother," Draco finally spluttered out, perplexed as to their reason for both coming to see him.

"Draco," his mother greeted back. "May we come in?" Draco simply stepped aside as his answer and both walked in as regally as any aristocrat would. Draco closed the door behind them and took a seat across from his parents in front of the small fireplace set in the corner of his bedroom. Narcissa set her tray down and stood to give Draco a peck on the cheek.

"Happy Christmas, my darling boy," she whispered, as if afraid Voldemort would hear. Draco cracked his first smile in six months.

"Happy Christmas to you, too, Mother." He returned his mother's kiss before reaching down for a steaming mug. The three blondes shared a short, comfortable silence before Lucius awkwardly cleared his throat and pulled, not one, but two packages out from behind his back. They were both small and simply wrapped in green paper. He handed the smaller of the two to Narcissa, who then handed it to Draco. He tore through the thin paper to reveal a velvet box holding an impressive diamond ring. The band seemed to be made of white gold and was intricately carved with Celtic patterns. His mother explained that the ring had been in the Black family for quite some time and the patterns were an ancient spell that ensured fertility and fidelity. As many Pureblooded marriages were prearranged, it was typical for one or both parties to try and cheat. They only needed each other as long as an heir was created and until then, the wearer could not remove it. This was a precaution taken to prevent bastard children. Draco smirked at the measures that his family had taken all in the name of blood purity and social standing. He politely thanked his mother but already knew that he would more than likely never need to use the ring. If he was ever going to propose to Hermione, he wanted it to be out of her own volition and allow her to walk away if she didn't feel him worthy of her love anymore. Draco mentally frowned at that thought and shook it away as his father stood to extend his second present.

"Happy Christmas, Draco," he croaked out. "This present has been in the Malfoy family for several generations. It is usually given on the firstborn son's seventeenth birthday, but under certain circumstances, it was difficult for me to retrieve it from the family vault." Draco nodded and smiled at his father to show that he understood and wasn't holding it against him. He pulled at the paper, tossing it aside, and revealed a wooden box, also intricately carved. Draco figured that in this case, it was more for decoration than anything else since the carvings did not look like any decipherable Runes or other ancient characters. He opened the box to find an antique clock-watch shaped as a snake's head. He carefully lifted it out of its velvet-lined box to inspect it as Lucius explained its origins.

"It's been in the Malfoy family since 1564 and has been passed down to the firstborn son ever since." Draco opened the hinged face to reveal an hour hand, but no minute hand, as was customary for early portable clocks. But even stranger, there were no numbers. He looked up at his father for an explanation. Lucius leaned forward and gestured to the watch.

"It does not tell time, necessarily. Once you put this piece on, it produces some sort of protection spell over the wearer. As soon as you put this on, images will appear around the face. Put it on and I will show you." Draco slipped the watch's chain around his neck and, sure enough, small icons appeared around the face. Lucius continued to explain.

"If you wind the hand to that small triangle icon, where the one should be, you will instantly become invisible for one minute." Draco tried it and, sure enough, his hands were no longer in front of his face. Narcissa and Lucius smiled amusedly and waited patiently for Draco to reappear with a childlike smile on his face.

"What else can I do?" Lucius chuckled slightly and continued to explain. In the place of the three, there was a skull icon, which allowed the wearer to appear dead for fifteen minutes. A circle icon extended an impenetrable force field to those within a ten-foot radius of the wearer for two minutes. Another icon, a heart, extended protection on those that the wearer considered closest to his heart for a full five minutes.

"I will allow you to discover for yourself what the other icons do. I would hope that you would wear this piece everyday, especially in such dangerous times." Draco nodded, silently promising that he will and stood to properly thank is father. He extended his hand to shake and Lucius tugged him forward slightly to wrap his free arm around his grown son. For a moment, they shared an awkward, partial hug, but it was the beginning of something new and life-altering for both Malfoy men. Their cordial masks then slipped back into place, but the feeling of rightness and normalcy that settled over Draco for that small fraction of time didn't disappear. He allowed himself to soak in the feeling and it brought him hope that someday, the feeling could be permanent. The three finished their hot chocolate, amicably chatting about anything but the war ahead before saying good night to one another. As Draco sat alone again in his room, looking out once again at the dark sky, he couldn't help thinking that the only thing that could have made this Christmas absolutely perfect was if Hermione could have been here, too.

* * *

The weather was beautiful. One could almost forget that there was danger lurking around every corner when the world was so white like this. She sat at the kitchen table, staring at the wood grain, tracing the darker lines and just thinking. Thinking about what a right git Ron was for simply walking out on them during such a crucial time, thinking about how stressed out and angry Harry was, thinking about Draco…almost always thinking about Draco. More than anything, she wished that she was with him right now. She looked up at the sound of the tent door rustling and watched as Harry strolled over and sat at the table across from her.

"Everything clear," he said wearily. He looked so tired. She imagined that she looked much the same. She looked into his eyes; they had the haunted look of one who had seen too much in a little bit of time. Hermione sighed and put her hand on top of Harry's, offering wordless comfort. Really, what could she have said? These were dark times they were living; their best friend had just abandoned them and they were on the run from the most evil being to have ever walked the earth.

But despite the danger, she still could not help but wonder how Draco was fairing. She knew for a fact that Harry was constantly worried about Ginny, despite what Ron thought. She was sure that the fear of any more casualties in this war was beginning to eat him up inside. It was beginning to eat her up as well. The longer they went without finding anything, the longer the Wizarding World suffered.

She sighed and stood up, stretching out her limbs. She took up _Hogwarts: A History_, walked to the edge of the tent door and simply sat there, staring out at the dark. She wondered what it would have been like if she had spent Christmas with Draco instead of running from giant, killer snakes. She wondered if he had celebrated at all. She rubbed her hand over her eyes, trying, once again, to expel her worries about Draco out of her mind. She had to focus on the now; on what was here. She couldn't think about Draco right now. She couldn't let her worries about him affect this mission. As dramatic as it may sound, the world was counting on her. She lit her wand and tried to read her book, but she wasn't absorbing much information. Besides, it wasn't as if she hadn't already memorized most of what it said. She continued to pretend to read, anyway, for it helped her to think that she was at least making an effort to keep her thoughts on the task at hand.

She was soon distracted by the sounds of someone moving outside of their tent, but kept shaking the fear away, chalking it up to leftover nerves from their recent brush with danger. She continued to listen, however, while simultaneously pretending to read and was startled when Harry finally came to sit down next to her and mentioned something about packing up early and moving on. She agreed and voiced her fears that someone was hanging about before they packed and Disapparated to the Forest of Dean. She smiled at the familiarity of the place and hoped that one day, she could come back here with Draco under much nicer circumstances.

* * *

**MARCH**

Draco was sitting in the drawing room across from his father, who was simply staring into the fire. His mother was polishing silverware. Draco wasn't sure why; it wasn't as if they were going to be having any fancy dinner parties any time soon. He figured it was for the same reason he was even sitting in the drawing room; to have a semblance of normalcy. Besides, this was the first time he had been able to simply sit with his family since Christmas Eve, since he was constantly on dungeon watch. He still didn't understand why Lovegood had been taken. What use was Loony to anyone, most of all Voldemort. He looked up as his mother excused herself from the room to answer the door. He wasn't even aware that anyone had called. There was a slight commotion in the foyer before his mother came back in with Fenrir Greyback, who was dragging in a young man who looked like he had stuck his head into a wasp hive, and two other men holding two more prisoners. He stood as did his father, who called out at the intrusion.

"They say they've got Potter," his mother said in a cold voice, indicating that she was annoyed at having been disturbed as well. "Draco, come here." Draco hesitated before walking forward. He refused to think about the other two prisoners that had been taken in. Refused to think that this was, in fact, Potter, meaning that the two accompanying him had to be Weasel and Hermione.

He stood five feet away from the boy Greyback referred to as Harry Potter, who avoided looking directly at Draco. Greyback pushed the boy so that he stood directly beneath the light from the chandelier; there was no mistaking that horribly unkempt hair. This definitely was Harry Potter, even if his face did look indistinguishable in its swollen state. Draco swallowed down the bile rising in his throat at what this meant for the other two prisoners.

"Well, boy?" Greyback spat out impatiently. Draco stalled, knowing that Potter was avoiding looking at him on purpose. He was weighing it out in his mind: positive identification meant a positive identification of Hermione and most definitely death for the Golden Trio. He couldn't bear that. Negative identification, however, meant that if they found out eventually, he and his family would be punished, and Hermione would still be in danger.

"Well, Draco?" his father called out, a little too excitedly. Draco held back his sneer; his father would do anything to stay in Voldemort's graces. And while he understood the reasons for it, he still did not approve of the way in which Lucius chose to protect his family. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?" It was at that moment that he looked up and confirmed that Hermione was with them, her head hanging low. His breath caught in his chest and fear overtook his body.

"I can't—I can't be sure," he stuttered out. He knew he sounded like a scared, little baby, but he felt as if his legs had been knocked out from under him. Damn it, he knew something like this would happen to her!

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" Draco was growing more disgusted with his father's behavior and more afraid of getting closer to identifying Hermione. Lucius and Greyback got into a short argument about who found Potter before his father finally walked up to Greyback, inspecting his cargo. Lucius continued to look over the boy as Draco tried to keep his breathing under control. He could hear the blood roaring in his ears. He couldn't think of anything except how to get Hermione out of his house.

"Draco, come here, look properly!" his father's voice broke through his thoughts. "What do you think?" Draco sighed and came forward to inspect the swollen boy as his father was. He took a quick look, gave his noncommittal answer before quickly walking away. He knew it was Potter. And for the first time in his life, he prayed that they would not ask him to identify anymore. If this was the state that Potter was in, there was no guessing what state Hermione was in. he caught his mother's eye, and she gave him a look that said that she understood what he was going through.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," she said. "Completely sure that it is Potter before we summon the Dark Lord." The Dark Lord. He will surely be summoned. And he saw what they did to that Muggle Born teacher, Charity Burbage. There could only be worse in store for Hermione. He could feel a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He had to figure out something. Greyback's voice suddenly brought Draco back to the present situation.

"What about the Mudblood, then?" The men with Greyback shifted around and Hermione now stood under the light of the chandelier. She looked too thin, too tired, but there was still a fierce determination in her eyes. Their eyes caught and it was all he could do to keep from running to her and taking her away from here, the fate of the Wizarding World be damned; Potter could do it by himself. He smiled just slightly at her, and she returned it shortly before grimacing in pain as the dirty man holding her shifted her.

"Wait," said his mother. "Yes – yes she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the _Prophet_! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?" Draco's heart stopped. He couldn't. They would kill her. He looked into Hermione's eyes.

"I…" He didn't know what to say. _What do I say? What should I do?_ He tried to communicate this with his eyes. Hermione continued to just stare into his eyes, saying with just her stare the same thing that he was thinking: _I missed you._

"Maybe…" He continued to stare and she finally gave the slightest nod of her head. He shut his eyes briefly and mentally apologized to her. He would make this up to her after this fucking war was over. "Yeah," he finally muttered. He felt the energy leave him with just that one word and Lucius was shouting about Weasel. Draco gave another noncommittal answer before his Aunt Bellatrix walked into the room. Draco stood further back into the room; he never did much like his Aunt Bella and tried to stay out of her way. He faced the fireplace and tried hard not vomit. He had never been more afraid for another human being. Ever.

Draco tried to focus on his breathing and drowned out the sounds of his aunt and father fighting about who got to summon the Dark Lord. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes. As if it mattered. Their lives were all at stake here and they were fighting about something so inconsequential it was ridiculous. What did it matter who called the Dark Lord? In the end, Potter was going to win, that much was obvious. Voldemort grew more paranoid each day and they all could see him tearing apart at the seams.

He started at Bellatrix's yell. He slowly turned around and tried to keep a bored look on his face. He avoided looking at Hermione because he knew it would make his heart break. There was a loud bang and one of the Snatchers fell to the floor. Draco shook his head of his melancholy thoughts and looked at his aunt. She looked right pissed, but he wasn't sure why. A few more bangs and the entire group of Snatchers, with the exception of Greyback, littered the floor. _What the hell is going on?_

Draco's aunt stalked over to Greyback and had a whispered conversation with him. Draco, from where he stood, couldn't make out what she was saying. He looked to his mother, who seemed just as bewildered at her sister's behavior. She simply shook her head, silently begging him not to ask questions. Draco looked back at Bellatrix in time to see her waving a sword in Greyback's face.

"Draco!" He started again at his aunt's voice. "Move this scum outside." He glanced at the unconscious men on the floor. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me." Draco scowled. Fail to kill one old man and he never hears the end of it from his blood-crazed aunt. He made a move, but stopped at his mother's protestations.

"Be quiet!" Bellatrix yelled. "The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!" He watched as his aunt fingered the sword and could have sworn he saw a bit of panic cross her face. She ordered for the prisoners to be placed in the cellar; at this Draco gave an inward sigh of relief. At least there, Hermione would be out of his crazy aunt's reach. Narcissa ordered Greyback to take the prisoners down. They began to move from the room when Bellatrix sharply ordered for them to "Wait."

And then she uttered the words Draco feared the most.

"All except for the Mudblood."

**A/N: I know, I know. I'm horrible for stealing this scene right out of the book. But it was such a good scene and fits in so perfectly with the storyline, I had to include it. Again, I make no profit from this work and will never own any of this. I should, at the very least, be able to play with what the brilliant Mrs. Rowling as given us.**

**Anyway, that's where I'll leave this for now. Thank you for sticking with this even though I'm terrible at updating. Ciao!**


	10. Chapter Ten

**A/N: I apologize, again, for my failure to produce quick updates. Having no computer of my own, I find it difficult to find the time and the means to continue writing. Luckily, this story is almost over and I'm finding much inspiration in the wake of watching the final installment of the Harry Potter films. Expect a much quicker update after this one. Anyway, let's not keep you waiting anymore. On with the show!**

**Chapter 10**

Draco's insides froze. He literally felt as if he could not move a muscle.

_No._

It took all of his self-control not to lunge at Greyback as he gave Hermione a hungry look. Weasel began protesting, trying to convince Bellatrix to take him instead. In normal circumstances, Draco would have rolled his eyes at the absurdity. It was quite obvious that they needed information and Hermione, being the brains of their operation, was the best candidate to give it to them. But seeing as he was so scared out of his wits, Draco refrained from pointing this out to the red-headed pauper.

He watched helplessly as Greyback escorted the two buffoons to the dungeons. As soon as they were out of sight, his Aunt Bellatrix turned to Hermione. Everything after that point seemed like it was happening in slow motion. He heard a high-pitched buzz in his ears, distorting Bellatrix's words. She wanted to know where they got that damned sword. He just knew those kamikaze twins would get her in trouble one day. Then the first hit was delivered and everything rushed back to him full force

* * *

Hermione hated the Cruciatus Curse. But she had never experienced one at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione could hardly think to breathe. Her screams were simply an automatic response.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? _Where?_" It took a second for Hermione to gather back her wits after having been hit with such torture and realize what Bellatrix was talking about.

"We found it," she sobbed. "We found it—PLEASE!" Her answer wasn't good enough as Bellatrix saw it fit to hit her with another curse. Hermione couldn't even remember hearing her utter the words; she must have had enough practice with the spell that she could now do it non-verbally. _Fantastic._

As soon as she lifted off the spell, Hermione rolled over and was now facing Draco. He was so white and he looked as if he was about to vomit. Even in her exhaustion and pain, Hermione felt concern for his well being overtake her body. She looked him straight in the eyes and tried to silently thank him for not ratting out Harry. _Don't worry about me,_ she wanted to tell him.

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it!" Bellatrix spat. "You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, _tell the truth!_" Bellatrix hit Hermione with another spell and Hermione automatically screamed again. But this time, she tried not to close her eyes. She tried, instead, to focus on Draco. She could vaguely make out Ron yelling out her name, but it was Draco that kept her grounded. He looked as if he might start hyperventilating, but to his credit, did not turn away from Hermione, either.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" Hermione briefly looked away from Draco to take a glance at the wicked blade that Bellatrix was wielding. She gulped and once again, connected her gaze with Draco's. He was panicking, she could tell, by the rapid way that his chest was rising and falling with his erratic breathing. _It's okay, _she mouthed. _I'll be fine_. She tried to smile, but was cut off by the strongest curse Bellatrix had thrown yet.

* * *

Draco thought his ears would bleed as Hermione's screams echoed off the Manor walls. Bellatrix proceeded to pin her down and began attacking Hermione with her knife. Draco knew that knife; the cuts made by such a knife would not heal with magic. One simply had to wait until the body healed itself naturally and the pain would persist until it did. Draco wanted to scream out, but couldn't. He wanted to sob with his concern over the woman he loved, so strong and enduring so much just to keep her blundering friend safe, but he wouldn't. He wanted to run to Hermione and Apparate them both to safety, away from the war and all the pain, but he really, really shouldn't. So instead, he continued to watch as his secret, estranged girlfriend was tortured by his own flesh and blood.

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix screamed. Draco wondered if Hermione's ears would be permanently damaged, as close Bellatrix was to her screaming like that. But he shook the absurd thought away; now was not the time for such silly wonderings. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?" Bellatrix continued with her questioning.

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault…It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!" Draco considered Hermione's story. Knowing those two prats, he wouldn't be surprised if the Trio had, indeed, broken into his aunt's vault. But he hoped that, if those two valued their lives at all, they had not taken Hermione into such a dangerous situation, especially considering how disastrous that plan turned out to be.

"A copy?" Bellatrix screeched. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" Draco's head whipped towards his father so quickly, he might've gotten whiplash. He had almost forgotten that the other man was even in the room. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!" Draco gave his father a quick nod before glancing back at Hermione. As he walked away, towards the cellar, he could barely make out the word that Bellatrix had carved into her arm. There, in glistening, red blood, was the bold word, _MUDBLOOD_.

* * *

Hermione could no longer move her body was so exhausted from the torture it had to endure. She closed her eyes after Draco had left the room, hoping that Bellatrix would divert her attention away from her now that she would be talking to the goblin. At that thought, her eyes shot open again. The goblin would be able to tell Bellatrix that the sword was, indeed, the real one and Hermione would be killed for lying. Tears leaked out of her eyes, hoping that Draco would return soon so that she could at least try to convey how much she loved him before Bellatrix finished her off.

It seemed, though, that Bellatrix needed to kill time while waiting for her nephew to return with the goblin and proceeded to deal out a few more curses, seemingly for shits and giggles. There were no questions asked, simply rage behind her reason for such punishment. Hermione could no longer find the energy to scream and simply sobbed as Bellatrix doled out curse after curse. Finally, Hermione heard hurried footsteps, which she assumed meant Draco's return. Bellatrix finally turned away from Hermione and thrust the sword into the goblin's face, ordering him to determine if it was real or fake. Hermione was facing Draco once again, who was standing off to the side, looking torn between continuing to pretend that he didn't care for her or rushing to her side to make sure she was okay. Their eyes connected again and Hermione gave him a small, although pained smile. Draco returned it, very briefly, before allowing his face to return to the emotionless mask. He did not break his gaze, however.

_I love you, _she mouthed to him. Draco's nose flared and he looked as if he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from showing any outward emotion. But looking into his eyes, which had glossed over in his emotion, she knew that he still felt the same. He gave her a small nod as his answer, which was enough in these circumstances. With that assurance, she allowed herself to be overtaken by the exhaustion.

* * *

Almost a month had passed since the Golden Trio had been in his house and a minute didn't go by that Draco didn't think about Hermione. He wondered if she ever woke again. He wondered if the Disastrous Duo was getting her into more trouble. He heard something about someone actually breaking into Bellatrix's vault. He wondered if she was with them. He rolled his eyes at that last thought. Of course she was with them. He was beginning to think that she was just as suicidal as Potter, heading into danger with no thought as to their own well beings.

Draco sighed and looked out his window at the grounds below, wishing, not for the first time, that he could go outside for some fresh air. The Dark Lord did not take it well that they had had Potter and allowed him to best them once again and had confined the entire family to house arrest. He winced as he remembered the physical punishment doled out. He never regretted it more than now that he had taken the blasted Dark Mark. He decided that when all this was over, he and Hermione were going to run away and live in some rural countryside and live like Muggles until the day they died. He didn't believe that there was anything for him in the Wizarding world after this. They lived in a prejudiced society. After this war was over and Potter won, no one would want to associate with him or even hire him for any sort of work after having received the Dark Mark.

But, he realized, it wouldn't help Hermione if they lived like Muggles. She was going to be a war heroine. She would have offers of all sorts. She had the opportunity to become successful. Did he even want to try and convince her to give that all up? That he was more than enough for Heroine Hermione Granger? He shook his head. They couldn't stay together. He had to stop trying to pretend otherwise. Staying with him would be a dead end for her. The whole world would see it as blasphemy. By then end of the war, everyone would know that the Malfoys had housed the Dark Lord. No one would forgive him for it. He'd be lucky if he didn't end up in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Surely, Hermione knew all this, she was the smartest witch of her time, after all. Did she think all this through? How could she have possibly fallen in love with him, knowing that there was no possibility of them staying together?

He sighed again and pulled away from the window, flopping himself into his bed. He had to stop thinking so morosely. It wasn't helping him come up with any answers or solutions. Maybe he should just take a nap.

* * *

When Hermione woke, she was in a bed, in room she didn't recognize, and could hear the ocean waves crashing against each other outside her window. She stirred and her entire body felt sore. She stretched a bit and was about to get out of bed when the door opened to reveal Fleur Weasley, nee Delacour. She checked Hermione's injuries and Hermione winced as Fleur changed the bandages on her mangled arm.

"You'll have that scar forever, unfortunately," Fleur told her, apologetically. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"Don't worry, I don't mind. It will be a reminder of how hard I had to fight in order to keep our world safe." Fleur returned her smile and stood.

"You are an extraordinary woman, Hermione Granger." She proceeded to clean up all her tools and left the room. Shortly after, Ron popped his head in and proceeded to tell her everything she had missed after passing out, including where they were and how Harry just finished burying Dobby the house elf. Hermione cried silently upon hearing this news. She liked Dobby and wished that she could have thanked him for everything he had done for them over the years.

Several weeks passed and they had succeeded in breaking into Gringotts and were now making their way down to Hogwarts via the secret passageway from the Hog's Head. Hermione felt a building anticipation as she neared the place that she had considered a home away from home for six years. They finally passed through the door and were almost immediately engulfed into hugs by their old friends. As they were bombarded with questions about their whereabouts, the feeling of finally being back where she belonged overwhelmed Hermione. She glanced at Harry, who looked pale and clammy. The seriousness of the situation returned to them and she nodded at Harry, telling him that she understood.

She listened while Neville and the rest of them protested and complained about Harry's adamant refusald to tell them what the three of them were up to and how he couldn't allow them to help. They were interrupted by the arrival of Luna and then, shortly after, Ginny came through the door. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the dumbstruck look on Harry face and remembered having the exact same feeling just weeks ago seeing Draco at Malfoy Manor.

After a few more moments of bickering about whether or not Harry needed help, Ron finally spoke up.

"Why can't they help?" Hermione considered this. It was true, they couldn't tell anyone what they were doing. But they didn't even know what they were looking for, and she voiced this aloud. "You don't have to do everything alone, Harry," she said, quietly. Harry seemed to consider everything they were suggesting and began to give orders. Hermione smiled as the tension on his shoulders seemed to lessen a bit.

* * *

Draco's heart was thumping so loudly in his ears, he was surprised that Crabbe and Goyle hadn't said anything about hearing it. Then again, it was, after all, Crabbe and Goyle. Shortly after he had fallen asleep, the burning in his left arm abruptly waked him. _Potter is at Hogwarts_. Draco blanched as he realized what this meant. Death Eaters were swarming all over the place. Anger briefly overshadowed the worry as he mentally cursed Harry Potter for getting Hermione into this mess and Hermione for allowing herself to become involved. He quickly donned his Death Eather garb, scowling the entire time, before meeting his father in the drawing room, from whence they Apparated to Hogsmeade.

It took some time to locate Crabbe and Goyle since the castle was in chaos. Apparently, Snape had fled and the students were all in panic. All around Draco, teachers were fighting Death Eaters and various Weasleys and their associates were popping out of nowhere. All Draco could focus on was the hard facts that would lead him to Hermione: Potter and co. were there and the rest of his goody-Gryffindor friends were hiding out in the Room of Requirement. He motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him to the seventh floor, put a Disillusionment Charm on all of them, then sat and waited. It wasn't long before the Trio came running up the corridor and a very familiar door appeared. Draco winced as he realized that they were in the Room of Hidden Things, where he had spent so much time during his sixth year. Draco pulled on his two imbecilic sidekicks so they knew to follow Potter, Weasley and Hermione. It took some time, as the room was even more cluttered than before, but they eventually found Harry.

"Hold it, Potter," Draco called out, his mother's wand raised. Potter turned to face Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. "That's my wand you're holding, Potter."

"Not anymore," Potter called back. "Winners keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?" Draco gritted his teeth before answering.

"My mother," he answered begrudgingly. Potter laughed and Draco's ire grew. The useless banter went back and forth between the two buffoons next to him and the scar-headed freak across.

"Harry? Are you talking to someone?" All four head whipped around towards the noise and before anyone could say anything, Crabbe had dealt out the first curse.

Draco watched as the fifty-foot mountain of old junk began to topple over towards the Weasel. Draco froze as he heard a familiar, feminine scream. Before he could react, Potter steadied the pile and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Crabbe began to raise his arm again and with his Seeker reflexes, Draco's hand shot out to lower it.

"No!" Crabbe gave him an odd look and Draco had to come up with a quick excuse as to why he was stopped from inflicting pain on the Mudblood and the blood traitor. "If you wreck the room you might bury the diadem thing!" Draco gave himself a mental pat on the back for his quick thinking.

"What's that matter?" said Crabbe, ever the curse-happy idiot. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?" Draco rolled his eyes even though his excuse was pretty feeble and, not to mention, made up.

"Potter came in here to get it," he finally replied. "So that must mean—"

"'Must mean'?" Crabbe turned to him and Draco was shocked at the ferocity in his both his tone and his gaze. "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, _Draco_. You an' your dad are finished." Draco blinked and tried to hide his surprise at this turn of events. _Great_, he thought. _Now I have a curse-happy buffoon with no one to control him loose in a cluttered room with Hermione just twenty feet away._

Potter made a quick movement and Crabbe aimed a Cruciatus Curse at him, but missed. He watched as the curse hit a stone bust of some ugly warlock and both the wig and the tiara it had been wearing soared through the air, getting lost in the pile of junk that Crabbe had tipped over. If Crabbe wasn't careful, all of them would get buried alive in this place.

"STOP!" Draco finally yelled. "The Dark Lord wants him alive—"

"So? I'm not killing him, am I? But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff—" Crabbe was cut off by Draco pulling him out of the way of a Stunning Curse. He looked at Potter to retaliate when he realized that it was, in fact, Hermione who had thrown it. He stood stock still for a second, looking her over like she was a sight for sore eyes. She looked as if she had gained a little weight from the last time he had seen her, which meant that she had been eating regular meals. That was good. Other than looking as if she had fought a war, she looked well. He could see the faint lines marring the skin peeking out from under her sleeve and winced.

"It's that Mudblood!" Crabbe yelled, breaking Draco from his reverie. The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion and took ten years off his life. He watched as Crabbe raised his wand and knew what spell he was going to say before it happened. "_Avada Kedavra!_" The green light shot straight at Hermione who just barely jumped out of the way. Draco wanted to collapse in relief but something had to be done about Crabbe. Crabbe and Goyle both began aiming curses at Potter, knocking Draco over and his wand out of his hand in the process. Draco just barely had enough time to duck behind a three-legged wardrobe before another Stunning Spell sent off by Hermione could get him.

Hermione managed to stun Goyle and ran past him and towards the pile that the tiara had fallen into. Crabbe then followed, a manic, predatory gleam in his eyes as he followed after Hermione, wand out. Draco let out a cry as Crabbe began shooting flames out of his wand. _Fiendfyre._ Crabbe was a complete idiot who had no idea how to control such a complex spell. Draco's predictions proved right as Crabbe's face turned from manic to panicked as he realized that the fire had taken a life of its own. It began to lick at the surrounding piles of junk and head towards the Trio. Towards Hermione. Draco could only think of one thing to do.

"RUN!"

**A/N: Yes, I took scenes out of the book, again, but added my own, fictitious emotions behind the actions. The next chapter will be more original, but I needed to use the events from the book to set up the next few, and last, chapters of this story. Thank you, for those of you who have stuck with this story for so long. I know it's hard, waiting and it sucks having to start from the beginning when it's been so long between updates that you've forgotten what it was about. Believe me, I know the feeling, it's happened to me, even writing this story. But I promise, it is almost finished and I'm already working on another story (NOT a sequel. I don't do those, just so you all know.) Anyway, I'll let you get on with your lives, or back to reading other stories if that's the case. Until next time, readers!**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**A/N: I know I've kept you waiting for this update long enough, so I'll leave all my comments and such 'til the end. BUT! Before I do, I must do this**

**SMUT WARNING! SMUT WARNING! SMUT WARNING!**

**I'll also mark it within the story body so that those who do not wish to read it may skip over it.**

**Now…**

**HAPPY READING!**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

"RUN!"

Draco ran as fast as he could towards the three people he had considered his enemies for years. Together, they tried to run from the quickly spreading fire. Together, they watched Crabbe fall victim to his own spell. Together, they escaped within an inch of their lives. And together, they watched the doors of the Room of Hidden Things slam shut, their hearts racing.

He took a quick glance at Hermione, who he found was already looking at him, smiling. He began to reach for her, but was suddenly interrupted by a flash of red. _Of course, _he thought. _A Weasley had to come and ruin the moment._

He pushed this thought aside quickly as he and Goyle began fighting the two redheads. Percy, the former Head Boy, if he recalled correctly, and one of the twins; he never could tell them apart. But just as he thought he was about to be outmatched, all the corridor's occupants were blown back by a loud blast

It seemed as if everything was happening in slow motion. Hermione couldn't help but cry out whenever a spell came too close to Draco. Harry and Ron looked ready to hold her back. But just as she thought she would lose him forever, the wall was blasted from the outside. When the air cleared, her heart stopped, horrified at what she saw.

Fred – fun-loving, lively Fred Weasley, one half of the most brilliant, trouble-making duo to have ever graced the halls of Hogwarts – was dead.

Ron and Percy both let out short screams of anguish, but couldn't allow anything more. While it was obvious that Ron was seriously disturbed by what had happened, Hermione mentally applauded him for his ability to keep it together.

She quickly glanced around for Draco, but found that he and Goyle had fled. Slightly disheartened, but understanding why he had left, she helped Harry and Ron move Fred's body before continuing on. It was almost scary how automatic her defense spells went up as she ran though the castle, even under the Invisibility Cloak. Before she knew it, she was at the Whomping Willow. She took a breath before following in after Harry, saying nothing, her mind racing and a ringing in her ears.

Suddenly, Harry stopped and motioned for them to be quiet. The Trio strained to listen as Voldemort Talked to Snape. As she listened, she quickly realized…Voldemort was not the Elder Wand's owner! According to Harry's account of what happened the night Dumbledore died, Draco had disarmed Dumbledore before Snape came along and issued the Killing Curse.

_**Draco**_ had been the Elder Wand's master. She felt some small sense of pride before realizing that Harry had then robbed Draco of his wand as well as Bellatrix's. She gave a quick glance at Harry, who seemed to have figured out the same thing. Then, before their very eyes, Severus Snape was attacked by the giant snake

* * *

Draco was running again. It seemed that all he had been doing for almost a year was run; if not literally, then figuratively. He really should have taken Hermione's advice and taken sanctuary with the Light Side instead of fighting against her. It was killing him not knowing where she was or if she was okay. But he continued on with Goyle, neither really trying to fight anymore. Just trying to make it out of there alive.

He stopped suddenly as Voldemort's voice rang through the air. He was calling back all his forces, but the two young Slytherins didn't move. It seemed as if they both made a silent agreement to not go back to that monster. Self-preservation was more important than this stupid war.

Draco and Goyle tiredly walked through the castle, no real destination in mind, when they finally happened upon the now abandoned Head Dormitory. Draco smiled to himself before looking up to find the one person he longed most to see.

"Hermione."

* * *

As soon as Harry left to meet with Lord Voldemort, Hermione cried. Ron held her for a moment before leaving to comfort his grieving family. But for that brief moment, she remembered what it was like to love Ron. It was so easy then and now it felt like an entirely different life. She watched the Weasley family for a moment, her heart breaking as she watched George mourn over the loss of his twin. After she could no longer take the pain of seeing her second family break, she walked.

She didn't really have any destination in mind. She just needed some time to herself and tried not to remember that she was in the middle of a war. It wasn't long before her feet took her down a familiar corridor and gasped as her brown eyes met grey.

"Hermione," he breathed. Before she could think, she ran the rest of the way down the hall and flung herself into his arms. She vaguely registered Goyle silently leaving, allowing some time alone for the reunited couple. She openly wept, wept for Harry, for Fred, for Remus and Tonks, for Dumbledore, her herself and finally for Draco. Draco just held her tight, as if afraid he'd lose her if he let go.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. She pulled back to look at him, puzzled.

"Sorry for what, Draco?" He sighed.

"For everything. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you and go with you and Potter instead of following my father. I'm sorry I didn't do anything when the Snatchers brought you to the Manor. I'm sorry Crabbe almost killed you and I'm sorry that Weasley died. I'm just…just…sorry, Hermione." By the end of his tirade, his eyes were misty and his expression anguished.

"Oh, love," she said, pulling out of his arms to take him by the hand. "Come with me." She led him though the door of the Head Dorms, the password never reset after they graduated.

Despite the damage to the rest of the castle, this room was relatively intact. She pulled Draco to the sofa and forced him to sit down while she went to the kitchenette. She returned shortly after, handing Draco a glass of water and softly ordering him to drink. He smirked at her bossiness, but softened his features to grace her with a smile as she settled down beside him.

"Draco," she started. He set his glass down, noting the seriousness of her tone, giving her his full attention. For a moment, she was silent and simply looked at him, taking in her fill of the boy she dreamed about for months.

"I missed you," she said simply. Draco pulled her forward and laid his lips over hers, feeling as if he had finally found his way home again. Hermione sighed softly in returned, feeling the exact same way. Hands moved slowly, lovingly caressing each other's bodies, slowly reminding themselves of all they had missed. Clothes were carefully discarded, strewn artfully onto the floor.

Draco lowered Hermione onto her back and kissed every single exposed inch of skin that he could reach. He stopped at her left forearm, gazing hatefully at the word inscribed there: _Mudblood_. Hermione purposefully stroked his forearm in return, where the equally heinous Dark Mark lay.

"Now we're both scarred," he muttered morosely. She smiled and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"And now we're both stronger for it." He gazed upon her face, amazed by the strength of this wonderful woman.

"How did a bastard like me ever deserve to be loved by a woman like you?" he mused aloud, smirking and shaking his head. Hermione simply shrugged.

"Perhaps I'm not as smart as everyone thinks." Draco blinked at her comment before letting out a loud bark of laughter.

"Oh, you're going to pay that one, you cheeky witch." He proceeded to tickle her, but as she giggled and writhed beneath him, he was reminded of their nakedness. He stood abruptly and scooped Hermione up, racing up the stairs and to her bedroom, back to the place where they had first made love.

**A/N: …AAAAAAND SMUT STARTS …**

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

**HERE!**

He practically threw her onto the bed before laying himself beside her. He kissed her sweetly before whispering, "I missed you, too," into her ear. He made love with her body, first with his hands, then his mouth, and finally, he aligned their bodies, rubbing himself against her wet core. He entered her slowly, savoring the feeling of her clenching around him, all hot and wet. She was so tight and he had to keep his own reactions in check, she felt so good. Then, finally, with a nod from Hermione, he began to move.

"You feel so good, Draco," she panted out. "It's been so long." It certainly had. He pumped in and out of her slowly, pulling out almost completely, allowing the head of his cock to tease at her opening before thrusting all the way in again. She came again with a long breathy moan.

Draco flipped them over so she was on top and Hermione rode out the last vestiges of her orgasm, grabbing his hands and placing them on her breasts. He kneaded and tweaked as she bounced on top of him, loving the sound of her moans. She came again as a well placed thumb came into contact with her swollen nub, screaming Draco's name.

He flipped them over again, rolling Hermione onto her back, before pulling her to the edge of the bed. He stood up, knees slightly bent, and thrust into her sopping wet core once again.

"Fuck, Hermione," he said through gritted teeth. "Can you feel how wet your are? It's amazing." He pulled one leg up so it was pressed against his shoulder. She moaned louder as his thrusts hit deeper, his strokes short and fast. She came one more time, seeing stars as she did.

Once more, Draco scooped her up and placed her in the very center of the bed. He resumed the slow thrusts, looking straight into her eyes.

"I love you, Hermione. You know that, right?" he breathed, his voice gravelly and raw. She simply nodded her reply.

"I love you and I'm never letting you out of my sight again. Do you believe that?" Hermione nodded again, on the cusp of orgasm.

"I want to marry you, Hermione, and start a family and grow old with you. Will you marry me, Hermione?" Hermione now had tears in her eyes, moved by the emotion she saw in his.

"Yes! Yes, Draco, I will marry you!" And with that, they came together, collapsing with exhaustion and smiles on their faces.

**-END SMUT ;P**-

\/

\/

\/

\/

\/

**A/N: And now it's safe to read. :]**

* * *

After they dressed in comfortable silence, they walked back towards the Great Hall, hand in hand. Their faces became morose again at all the damage done. They made their way over to the Weasleys slowly, stopping to give their condolences to people along the way. As soon as they reached the grieving family, however, a commotion seemed to be happening outside. Hermione exchanged a look with Ron, who paled at what this could possibly mean. She clutched Draco's hand tighter and made their way outside. Unfortunately, it was Ginny who saw him first and had to be held back by both Ron and Mr. Weasley to keep her from running towards the dark lump Hagrid was gently placing onto the cold ground.

Harry Potter was dead.

* * *

**A/N: So, I don't know about you guys, but this felt a little short to me. I don't know, perhaps it's because in my hard copy of this chapter, it's about ten pages long and here it's only about five. Eh, whatevs. ANYWAY, I hope you liked this long awaited chapter and I thank all of you for your continued loyalty to this story and, most of all, for your patience. I apologize for the late updates, but please continue to be patient as we are reaching the end of this long journey called "The Color Green." I've had the epilogue written for years, now and I just hope that the ending meets all of your hopes and expectations. Meanwhile, I will keep hoping that I will continue to have access to a computer so I can update soon.**

**Until next time, readers, and don't forget to review!**


	12. Author's Note

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!**

I apologize for the false alarm. I know that it's been an abominably long time since I've updated, but I'm in the process of reevaluating my WIPs and rewriting. When I first started both stories, it was before the release of Deathly Hallows and now both are irrelevant and I hate that. I assure you that the main plots will not change, just a few minor details and fixing a few grammatical errors and story flow problems.

So, please, my ever faithful readers, be patient as I go through this process and I promise you won't regret it!

Also, thank you for being so loyal and sticking to my stories. It really means a lot to me every time I get a new Favorite Alert in my inbox. It lets me know that this obsession isn't so stupid.

Thanks again and expect to see great things soon!

Love,

Fanficto Obsesso


End file.
